Cynical Soldier
by littlev123
Summary: Vash is a ruthless mercenary who cares for nothing except himself and money. But after he discovers his formerly hidden half-sister, learns that all mercenaries are suddenly being targeted, and sees old friends he abandoned two years ago, he might be forced to change. AU. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

"Maid! Maid! Where's my food?!"

"C-Coming sir!" a young maid, carefully balancing a large tray of magnificent cuisine, rushed into the chamber. She stopped in front of the intricate throne, offering the plate to the person who sat on the ornate chair. She nervously tried to keep her shaking hands steady as she kneeled in front of him, making sure to keep her frightened gaze on the floor.

Baron Jeton Fisnik, a pudgy man who had inherited his late father's power almost a year ago, shifted forward slightly as he eyed the food. It looked exquisite; succulent meat perfectly cooked and seasoned, small strips of rare fish perfectly fileted, and a delicious assortment of small, sweet cakes.

Fisnik reached out hungrily, a ruby amulet dangling from his neck; the symbol of his position and superiority. He plucked up one of the cakes and stuffed it into his mouth, barely pausing to chew before swallowing.

The maid waited for his reaction for a few, dreadful seconds, not daring to breathe.

Fisnik suddenly lashed out and flipped the tray in her hands, deliberately dumping its contents all over the poor maid. She bit back a startled gasp as food landed in her hair, stained her uniform, and scattered across the floor.

"Too much meat, not enough cakes!" he shouted down at her. Her delicate frame was trembling slightly now, trying to stop the tears welling in her eyes.

""I-I'll tell the cook, s-sir." She managed to whisper before quickly turning around dashing out of the room. Fisnik watched her leave, his gaze concentrated intently on her fleeing behind.

When she was out of sight, he sighed and leaned back in his throne. Could the staff do anything right? Normally he would have backhanded someone for such a mistake, but the maid was much too appealing for that. He chuckled, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back in a content fantasy. Maybe he should order her to his chambers tonight and—

Pain suddenly blossomed on the left side of his chest. His eyes popped open, and he slowly looked down as shock overcame his body.

A sword stuck out of his torso, piercing straight through his heart. A hand, wearing a thin armored glove, grasped the hilt tightly. Blood started to surround the sharp blade, staining Fisnik's expensive shirt. The last thing he felt before slipping into the realm of death was a faint tug as his precious amulet was ripped from his neck.

* * *

"Why are we meeting him here?"

"This isn't your ordinary tavern, Kresh. This is the Cattic Tavern, the one place where mercenaries and low lives are welcomed. Be happy I'm letting you come along. Now, two rules. One, don't talk to anyone once we get inside. And two, keep a good hold on your wallet."

"Dad," the scruffy looking child in his late teens looked up at his father, "What're we here for, anyway?"

"I just told you a few minutes ago. Weren't you paying any attention?" The father, a well-built man named Serge Fisnik, asked.

The boy gave him a blank look.

Serge sighed. "Right. Look, if you really want to know all the details, I'll tell you later. But right now we need to get in there and meet our guy."

Without waiting for a response, he started to walk toward the tavern. Kresh hurriedly caught up to him, gazing at their destination.

The Cattic Tavern's very walls seemed to radiate with shadowy mischief, with its dark stone structure and eerie landscape. The tavern sat on the edge of the Cattic River, whose gurgling water drowned out whatever whisperings escaped the thick walls. The stream continued down a small incline and flowed into the Agon City, a bustling place known for its wide array of craftsmen. Behind the tavern lay nothing but a seemingly endless expanse of sparse trees, their long shadows thrown haphazardly across the building.

Realizing that he was falling behind, Kresh quickly picked up his pace to catch up to his father again. Although his pride wouldn't let him admit it, he purposely stayed close to his dad out of nervousness for what lay inside.

The instant the door was opened, they were assaulted by the smell of liquor and roasted meat. A gentle murmuring buffeted their ears, each quiet conversation melding together into an indistinct background noise. Kresh had to blink a few times for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, purposefully shadowing the faces of those inside.

The whole atmosphere, while thick with a warm welcome, unsettled Kresh. Something about the customers themselves put him on edge. Many wore armor, cloaks, or had weapons clearly visible. Their movements, careful and precise, showed the secrecy of the words they exchanged.

Serge ushered him inside, and Kresh reluctantly followed. They walked toward one of the booths in the back and sat down. Kresh's eyes darted around the other tables, observing these mysterious men with strange fascination.

Suddenly, a large man with scars on every muscle looked up from his chat and stared straight at Kresh, as if sensing his snooping. Kresh immediately looked down at the table and away from the man's terrifying gaze. He subconsciously edged closer to his parent, now focusing intently on the scratches and dents scored into the table.

After a few minutes, the father nudged Kresh. Kresh looked up to see a young man walking toward them, not much older than himself. The man's piercing green eyes observed the father and son with a cool, calculating gaze, but his face remained expressionless. He had chin-length blond hair, and armor covered nearly every inch of his body, leaving only his head and part of his neck visible. A few belts crisscrossed around his waist, carrying a traveler's pouch and a sheathed longsword at his side.

The young man sat down in the chair across from them. Silence filled the air between them for a few moments, as if he was waiting for them to speak first.

"You get him?" Serge finally asked.

The man gave a curt nod and flicked open his pouch. He reached in and quickly pulled something out, so fast that Kresh barely noticed. He then slid it across the table and into Serge's waiting hands.

Serge scooped up the object and cupped it in his hands, examining it carefully. Kresh leaned over slightly to glimpse the item of interest.

It was a ruby amulet, the glittering gem encased in rich gold. Attached to it was a long, broken chain. It looked vaguely familiar to Kresh, but he couldn't quite remember. He looked up at Serge, surprised to see his father's face light up in a relieved smile.

"This is the real thing alright. Now that good for nothing uncle of mine can never force us to give up our precious crops again. Although I must admit," he commented, glancing over at the armored man, "I'm surprised no one had killed him yet. Kind of a shame to waste your talents with such filth. "

The blonde didn't reply, only continuing to look at Serge with an unreadable expression.

Serge burst into laughter, making Kresh jump. "I get it, you don't care to hear about an old man's family troubles, right? Alright, here's your reward." He handed a small bundle, covered with rough cloth, to the man. The man accepted it, peeked through the cloth, and then gave a satisfied nod. He then stood and walked off to the other side of the tavern.

Kresh watched him leave, trying to process what had just happened. It sounded like his great uncle was dead-not that he cared. Everyone had hated Jeton Fisnik, the Baron who was well known for his unreasonable demands of crops and meat to fill his fat belly or just plain wasted it on whatever he felt like.

Kresh was more interested on the retreating blonde, "Dad, who was that guy?"

Serge smiled. "He is one of the best mercenaries out there, willing to take jobs from poor and rich alike. As long as he gets enough money, he'll do anything. And I do mean anything. His name is Vash Zwingli. "

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! **

**I would like to give credit to **_**ninja82**_**, and to thank her so much for all of the support. She's the reason I even started to post this in the first place!**

**I love reviews, but if you don't have time/don't want to, I understand. ^^ Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Vash walked to the other end of the tavern and sat down at one of the more shadowed tables. He remained silent, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the new weight in his pouch.

It was a simple job, to say the least. Kill Baron Jeton Fisnik and bring back the amulet. The nobleman had a surprising lack of security, and not even any maids or butlers lingered around. It was an easy task to sneak in, stab a sword through his heart, steal the amulet, and leave without anyone the wiser. Sure, the money Serge had offered Vash wasn't as much as a rich noble could give, but money was money.

He observed the rest of the building for a moment, noticing that there appeared to be fewer people than usual. He must have caught the tavern on a slow day.

"Vash." A quiet, whispery voice spoke. Vash didn't bother turning around; he knew the voice well.

"Yes, Crevan?"

A cloaked figure stood just behind him, barely discernible in the darkness of the tavern. The man's only visible feature was the occasional flash of dark gray eyes, but you had to watch closely to even get a glimpse.

Crevan and Vash had known each other for many years, starting not long after Vash became a mercenary. Despite this, he knew next to nothing about the mysterious person. Honestly, Vash didn't really care to; Crevan was a helpful associate in his mind's eye, nothing more.

"Armend Zwingli has requested your presence." Crevan answered.

"Why?" he asked simply. Armendwas Vash's uncle on his father's side. Vash didn't have many family members left, and none of them even bothered to speak with him. Mercenaries tended to be looked down upon.

"Your father has died, and there are some inheritance matters he wishes to speak to you about."

Vash nodded; he had expected his father to die for a while now. He felt no sympathy toward the formerly sickly, frail man who had practically thrown him out of the house at age fourteen. His father had drank heavily and brought a new 'wife' home at least twice a year. Vash didn't even know who his true mother was.

What Vash hadn't estimated was that he would get any inheritance at all. It should all automatically go to Armend. He didn't know much about his uncle, as he had only seen the man a few times when he was a young boy, but just hearing the name sent a disgusted tremor through his mind. He wasn't sure exactly why, but it was there nonetheless.

"Did he say when?" Vash questioned. If there was a possibility to gain money, then he could ignore the emotion.

"No. But I suggest you make your way as soon as you can, before he changes his mind." Crevan said.

"Alright." Vash stood, and then turned to look at the cloaked man. "Are you coming with me?"

Crevan shook his head. "No, I have other business to attend to. But there is the possibility I may find you in my travels."

"Fine. Time for me to leave, then." he stated. He knew that if Crevan really wanted to find him, he would. He seemed to have a knack for finding Vash no matter where he was. Although this was a little strange, he only ever offered helpful information or jobs, so Vash never commented on it.

"Farewell, Vash." Crevan called out behind him, barely audible above the bustle in the rest of the tavern.

Vash nodded in acknowledgement of the goodbye, and then left the Cattic Tavern to start his journey.

* * *

Vash arrived at his uncle's land after nearly four days of walking. He paused, gazing upon the medium sized house and fields surrounding it for a moment, and then walked up to the door.

He knocked a few times, his metal gloves clanging against the wood. The door quickly opened to reveal a middle aged man with graying black hair, and instantly that burning dislike erupted in Vash's mind.

"Vash! It's been so long!" Armend exclaimed with painfully fake enthusiasm. "Come in, come in." he moved aside to allow Vash inside. Vash reluctantly entered the home while Armend shut the door behind him.

"So what's this about inheritance?" Vash questioned, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Being around this man put him on edge, and he didn't like it.

"Ah, of course." Armend walked over to a simple table with one chair on each side. He sat down, and then gestured for Vash to sit as well. Vash remained standing.

Undeterred, Armend kept the false smile plastered on his face. "I might as well tell you upfront that this does not involve any money or land."

"Then why am I here?" he demanded.

"There is something else that we must speak about. Or rather, someone."

"What are you talking about?"

Armend paused, as if deciding how to continue. "You know how your father had many wives after your mother. And yet, for some reason, he was only able to have children with two. One was your late mother. The other contracted a disease and died shortly after giving birth."

Vash stayed silent for a moment, piecing Armend's words together. "So I have a sibling." he stated calmly. While this was unexpected, it didn't have anything to do with him. Why bring him here just to tell him that?

"Yes. A half-sister. She—" A light knocking on the door interrupted Armend. Armend stood and expectantly walked over to the door. The instant it was open, his smile returned tenfold. He moved out of the way to allow Vash to see the visitor.

"Vash, meet Lili Zwingli."

**I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Lili gave a respectful curtsey. "Greetings, sirs."

Vash looked at the girl in front of him. She appeared to be three or four years younger than himself, and wore a simple peasant's dress. Her blonde hair, a few shades darker than Vash's, reached just past her chest in the form of two long braids. Her most notable features were her deep, sea green eyes which brimmed with such a pure innocence that it would make any puppy jealous.

"Come in, come in." Armend insisted. She obediently complied and entered the household, curiously glancing at Vash. Armend, after closing the door, noticed her looking at the young mercenary. His smile slipped for just a moment, and then he quickly composed himself.

"Lili, this is your older half-brother, Vash Zwingli." he introduced. Lili turned, as if to speak with Vash, but Armend quickly interrupted. "She is the inheritance I was talking about, Vash."

"Inheritance? You can't call a person inheritance." he stated.

"Your father seemed to think so. The last thing he said was to offer her to you." Armend shrugged. "Heaven knows why."

Vash ignored the insult as Armend continued.

"I can understand why you are disappointed. She's just a weak, pathetic peasant girl, not the beautiful money you mercenaries kill for. Quite literally, I might add. She is of no use to you in your line of work. Of course, if you do not wish to keep her, then I would be happy to take her off of your hands." Armend offered.

Vash paused for a moment, looking over at Lili. She seemed to take all of the insults in stride, quietly keeping her gaze on the floor.

Armend did have a point, as much as Vash hated to admit it; she would only get in Vash's way if he took her along. But at the same time, Vash was reluctant to let her stay with Armend. Armend spoke about her like she was an object, his object, and that he could do anything he wanted with her. It was sickening. Not to mention the fact that something about the man still made Vash uncomfortable. It just didn't feel right to leave Lili with him.

Vash blinked, a little surprised at himself. Why should he care about someone he just met? She would be nothing but dead weight to him. He didn't even know how to care for a child. Besides, by bringing her with him on his travels, he would only be putting her in unnecessary danger. It would be better for both of them if she stayed here. Casting his doubts aside – or at least trying to — he answered.

"You can keep her." It took an unexpected amount of effort to force the words out.

Armend immediately brightened. "You're making the right choice, Vash. "

Vash only nodded, and gave one last look at Lili. Although she was trying to hide it, the way she subconsciously fidgeted with one of her braids gave away her nervousness. He felt a sharp sense of guilt pierce at his heart, causing him to quickly look away in fear of his decision being swayed.

"If that's all, then I should be leaving." Vash stated, already turning and walking toward the door.

"Pleasure doing business with you! Visit any time!" Armend offered, although it was obvious he only did for pleasantries sake.

Not bothering to answer, Vash quickly made his way out of the house and away from the grounds. He wasn't sure of where he wanted to go, but at the moment didn't really care. And yet, with each step he took, the pang of guilt settled in his chest only increased more and more.

He finally stopped after about an hour of walking when he stumbled on a tussock of grass for the second time. Mentally cursing himself at his abnormal clumsiness, he quickly regained his balance with an irritated sigh. He looked out to the west, where the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. Knowing that his slow progress would not get him much farther before nightfall, he decided to rest at a thick tree surrounded by sparse bushes nearby.

Vash sat down and leaned against the tree with another sigh. Maybe a quick nap would help clear his mind.

He set down his sword beside him, laying his hand on the hilt so as to be prepared for any surprise attacks. He shifted slightly to make himself a little more comfortable, and then slowly drifted off into sleep.

_The full moon shone across the sleeping town, where an eleven-year-old Vash was currently treading down the familiar path to his friend's house. He had left his own house when he noticed his father start chugging down the alcohol again. While he never actually harmed his son—Vash would never allow himself to be subject to that—Vash hated watching someone that he was supposed to look up to drink so much that he couldn't see straight. It was degrading, to say the least._

_ A shrill scream suddenly tore through the night air, making Vash jump. His muscles tensed at the desperate, terrified sound. He quickly started to run toward the source, ignoring the light fear trickling through his limbs. Despite his young age, he knew he was a competent fighter, and often protected his friend from bullies. He felt fairly confident on taking on even an adult swordsman, and preferred to fight alone anyway. He reached to his side only to feel the fabric of his belt, realizing he had left his dagger at home. He faltered slightly, but another scream urged him on._

_ Vash skidded to a stop in front of an alleyway. Two men were pressing a young woman against a wall, one pinning her and muffling her screams with one hand, while the other watched. They spoke harshly and sadistically, roaming their hands over her body wherever they pleased. The sight made Vash's blood boil, but something made him pause. One of the voices sounded vaguely familiar, but the exact identity eluded him._

_ Pushing the feeling aside, he bit his lip as his mind raced with plans. Without his dagger, he stood no chance against two full grown men. He would have to distract them or knock them out from afar._

_ In the corner of his eye, he noticed a loose piece of rock to his right. He reached over and picked it up, weighing it in his hand for a moment. It was easily large enough to fill his palm, and was perfect for what he needed. _

_ He threw it at the nearest man, the rock striking him square on the temple. Vash gave a satisfied smirk as the man cried out in pain and surprise, releasing his grip on the woman to clutch at his head. With a growl of annoyance, the other male turned to glare at the thrower. Vash ducked behind the wall, but it was too late. _

_ During this distraction, the terrified girl sent a grateful look to Vash and then ran off. Now that she was safe, he decided it was time to flee as well. He whirled around to start running, only to feel a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He flinched at the contact and attempted to lunge forward, but the hand kept him back. He was forcibly turned around to face his captor._

_ "Hello there, Vash." The voice greeted, laced with fake reassurance. Vash's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked up at the speaker in confusion and surprise. Only one person ever spoke to him that way, with a mixture of obviously forced civility and subtle mockery._

_ "Uncle Armend?" he questioned. He then clenched his fists as a wave of anger coursed through him, ready to spew insults and accusations._

_ "Now now, we were just playing a game." Armend denied. "No need to tell anyone, right?"_

_ Vash snarled and twisted out of Armend's grip. "You…you disgusting son of a…!" _

_ "Vash!" he cut the younger boy off. "Listen to me. I am the adult here. You will not tell anyone about tonight, because it never happened. Understand?" He reached forward to catch Vash, but the blonde quickly stepped away. He turned and ran, his uncle shouting one last sentence after him;_

_ "No one will believe you over me!"_

Vash woke with a start, his hand instinctively clenching around his sword's hilt. He glanced around frantically before looking down at his sword, reassuring himself that he was most certainly in the present. Once his mind realized that there was no immediate danger and began to calm, he spent a moment to regulate his quickened breathing and to release his tense fingers off of his weapon.

As coherency returned, dread and guilt returned tenfold. Now he remembered why he hated Armend so much, and why he had been so reluctant to give Lili over to him. He had to get to get back to her as fast as possible, before Armend—

He stood, both too afraid and too disgusted to finish the thought. He sheathed his sword and looked up at the sky. He couldn't have been asleep longer than half an hour; hopefully Armend won't have had time to advance on the unsuspecting Lili yet. He then quickly started a brisk pace back to the place he once called home, determined to protect his half-sister from the monster he called uncle.

* * *

Lili finished cleaning off the table, her braids almost brushing against the surface as she worked. Hearing the somewhat heavy footsteps of Armend enter the kitchen, she straightened.

"Lili, you've done a wonderful job." he greeted, walking up to the table.

"Thank you." she responded quietly, and then headed over to the other side of the room, intending to start cleaning up elsewhere.

She jumped as his hand grabbed her wrist, making her drop the rag. She turned to face him, his tightening grip making her heart race in fear.

"S-Sir…?" she questioned, her voice quavering. Armend continued to smile down at her, but did let go of her arm.

"Now that you've finished your cleaning," he began, stepping closer to her, "I believe it is time for us to move on to other, more adult, matters."

Lili quickly stepped back, the hungry look he eyed her with making her body tense. "No thank you…" she nervously refused, and attempted to move around him. Armend intercepted her, stepping to the side to assure her capture. Lili backed up again, startled to feel the wall against her back. She wanted to cry out for help, but her throat had tightened in fear, choking back any pleas.

Armend slammed his palms onto the wall on both sides of her head, making her flinch. "There's no need to worry. I am very…experienced." he drew out the last word, his lustful gaze boring into her mind.

Trembling, Lili ducked and darted underneath his arm. Before she could get any farther, Armend reached out and grabbed the back of her dress, forcing her to stop. She gave a strangled gasp in surprise, the collar of her dress momentarily pressuring her neck and cutting off her oxygen.

"Now now, " he reprimanded almost playfully, "The less you struggle the less it will hurt." He then shoved her back against the wall, pressing her against the rough surface. This time he kept a firm hold on her shoulders, allowing no escape. Lili fearfully closed her eyes as she felt his thumb rub over her collarbone, desire radiating from his gentle yet relentless touch.

**I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

A loud crash reverberated throughout the house as the door slammed open, the wood harshly crashing into the wall. The sound was quickly followed the metallic unsheathing of a sword. Before Armend could even blink in surprise, he felt a sharp pressure press between his shoulder blades.

"Let go of her."

Vash's voice demanded complete and utter obedience, sending fear rushing up Armend's spine. Although he could not see Vash, he could feel the tension behind the weapon, its wielder fighting back a vehement rage boiling within him. The air, suddenly thick with animosity, was difficult for Armend to even dare to breathe through his rising panic. The room felt like it was filled with a flammable gas, ready to explode with the tiniest spark. It was taking all of Vash's willpower not to strike him down then and there.

When Armend didn't immediately comply, he felt a prick of pain as the blade easily pierced through his shirt and punctured the skin. A small trail of warm, red liquid oozed from the wound.

"Now." The single word was deadly, quiet, about to snap. There was no telling how much longer Vash would be able to hold himself back, his ferocity fighting to rise to the surface and make the fatal slice of the blade. Armend's pride shriveled under the overwhelming threat of death, his clever mind clouded by a veil of terror.

Armend slowly and cautiously removed his hands from Lili's shoulders and let his arms return to his sides. Vash's sword remained firmly in place, a painful reminder of the consequences should he even think of making one wrong move. Vash's eyes drilled into his back, the green irises smoldering with a vicious fury.

"Lili." Vash spoke again, this time addressing the frightened young girl. His tone was no less stern, but did not contain that biting edge previously laced onto his words. She blinked, as if coming out of a daze when her name was called. Her eyes darted up at Armend in a final glance at her assaulter that lasted for barely a moment, and then fearfully she cast her gaze to the ground and warily edged around the older man. Her shuffling footsteps were the only sound in the thick atmosphere of animosity, as if anything that dared to add to the noise would meet an immediate and abrupt end the moment it sounded. And, in Armend's case, it was a very true reality.

Lili finally reached the door, her hands clasped firmly clasped together as she paused next to the entrance.

"Lili and I are going to leave, and you are not to move until we are gone. If I ever see you again, I will not be so merciful." The chilling order and threat was charged with a smoldering vehemence. Lili tensed at the words, her knuckles turning white, even though the threat was not directed at her.

Vash didn't notice Lili's reaction, his attention focused on his uncle. His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword even tighter, fighting back primitive rage, before finally tearing himself away from the desire and lowering his weapon. He stepped back, toward the door, his smoldering eyes never leaving Armend for an instant. Armend meekly remained still; he knew when he was beaten. The evidence lay in the sinister red still darkening the tip of Vash's blade.

Vash finally turned away to shut the door and follow Lili outside. Once the sight of his uncle was cut off from his sight, Vash let out a sigh. He stood there for a few moments, focusing solely on regaining his composure, before glancing over at his half-sister.

She did not look up, her eyes unfocused and glazed. Her slim frame still shook slightly, but not other feature telling of her wellbeing could be discerned. Vash hesitated, wondering how to handle this unfamiliar situation.

"Let's go to an inn for the night." he suggested. Lili nodded, her gaze flickering over to Vash's hand before firmly returning to the ground. Vash, wondering what had shifted her attention for that moment, looked down at his hand.

He was still gripping his sword, his fingers curled around it so tightly that he suddenly realized that he felt discomfort from the metal of his gauntlets digging into his skin. He loosened his hold, sending tiny sparks of pain throughout his knuckles from the force of his tensed muscles. He then pierced the dry earth with the tip of his weapon, easily drew it out, and checked it over to make sure that the trace of Armend's blood was gone. Satisfied, he finally sheathed his sword and began to walk. Lili silently followed.

Vash led her out of the grounds and down the trail to the closest town, which also happened to be his hometown. For this reason, once they entered, he skirted around most of the major roads in hopes of no one recognizing him. He still earned glares from passerby, but that was to be expected of his position. Normally he would not even bother to sleep at an inn, but after the day's events, he wasn't about to force Lili to rest outside on the hard, cold ground.

That also led him to wonder what he was going to do with her. He would definitely stay with her for tonight. But what about tomorrow? It would be dangerous for her to travel with him, due to the nature of his vocation. However, there was no one that he trusted enough at the moment to hand her over to. He cast the question aside for now, deciding that he would have better judgment in the morning, when his anger had ebbed.

They entered a small inn on the east side of town. Inside the quaint opening room sat a few worn tables and a cluttered desk, behind which a lively middle-aged woman scrawled some words onto a document. Three were doors at the far end of the room and four doors on the second floor.

The woman, who appeared to be the owner, finished the paperwork she had been working on and looked up as she heard Vash approach.

"Hello, what can I—" she broke off, her smile dissipating as she took in Vash's attire. "Oh. Mercenary."

Unfazed, Vash stopped and stood in front of the desk. "I need a room for us for the night."

The woman raised her eyebrow at the word "us," and peered around Vash to look at Lili who stood a few feet behind him. Her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

"I only have one room left." she stated with a hint of warning.

"That's fine. We're siblings." he responded, his face remaining stoic as he offered the necessary amount of money.

The owner gave a small huff of disbelief, but held out her hand to accept the payment. She scrutinized the amount after the last coin dropped into her palm, but found the total to be satisfactory.

"Bottom right." she said. She closed her fist, as if expecting him to try to steal the money out of her hand at any second. "And I will not have any thieving or murder in my inn tonight, understand?"

Vash nodded. He had heard similar words too many times by now to be affected by them.

He walked over to the bottom right door and opened it for Lili. He briefly looked around as he closed the door behind them.

A single bed rested in the corner, its neutral brown blankets lightened to a yellowish tan by the setting sun shining through the window. The only other piece of furniture was a small, creaky table.

"You can sleep on the bed." Vash said as he pulled off his gauntlets. He set them on the floor next to the table, deciding not to test if it could hold the weight. He began to remove the rest of his armor, feeling abnormally light as the weight of the metal and chain mail disappeared, leaving him in his thick yet airy woolen shirt and trousers. After smoothing out his shirt, he started to turn back toward Lili.

"I'll be fine on the floor. We'll decide what to do in the morn—" he cut off in surprise as he suddenly felt thin arms wrap around his torso. He slowly looked down at the young girl with widened eyes.

Tears flowed out from underneath Lili's closed eyelids and dampened the fabric of Vash's shirt. She trembled as she clung to him, sobbing into the only comfort she could find.

Realization struck Vash, softening his expression. So that was why she had been so quiet and subdued during the walk to town. The shock of the danger she had been in had left her numb, unable to sort through the emotions of panic and fear at the time. Now that her mind had caught up to the present, realization of what would have happened filled her, overwhelming her with a sudden wave of horror. Without her own consent, she had latched onto the closest thing she could reach in a desperate need for comfort, and that happened to be Vash.

Vash loosely but warmly wrapped his arms around Lili, allowing her to cry out her torment of shock. Although he was unused to these types of situations, he knew that it would give her the most relief to simply express her fears with tears.

Looking over her now, so vulnerable and helpless, he also realized that he wanted to protect her. Despite having just met her a few hours ago, he already felt a familial bond, something that urged him to defend his half-sister. It seemed as if this girl had discovered a piece of him that he hadn't known existed, a piece that truly cared for another living being after such a long while. In light of Armend's assault, sister and brother had subconsciously banded together, a formerly hidden bond linking them together. A sibling bond that could never be broken.

**I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

A ray of rising sunshine, filtering through the small window's thin curtain, gently roused Vash from his light sleep. He blinked a few time as his eyes adjusted to the morning light, and then glanced over at the bed across the room. Lili continued to sleep on peacefully, undisturbed by the climbing sun. A brief sense of fondness, a pleasant feeling, but he still wasn't quite used to sharing his company with another person for so long.

He quietly stood, stretching his arms and back to disperse the lingering stiffness. He had slept on the floor last night, sitting back against the wall, but he didn't mind; he had rested in much worse places before. Lili, after calming down, had quickly drifted off to sleep in her physical and mental exhaustion. Vash had made sure that she was comfortably in the bed before he worried about his own need for sleep.

Vash turned to look inside his traveling pouch. A small frown momentarily flitted across his face as he noticed the sparse contents within; he would have to go to the market today.

He wanted to get out of this city as soon as possible, and probably would have if he was travelling alone. He would easily have been able to ration out his food long enough to make it to the next town. However, now that Lili was going to be travelling with him, he could tell that there would not be enough. There was simply no way he was going to let her starve.

Closing the pouch with a silent sigh, he began to layer his armor back on. Once he had the familiar, reassuring weight of the chainmail and metal plates settled and secured back onto his frame, he reached for his sword. As he finished cinching the weapon to the belts on his side, he heard a small yawn from across the room. He turned toward the source of the sound to see Lili sleepily rising to a sitting position and rubbing the drowsiness from her eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes, thank you." she answered, and then paused, as if realizing something. "Mr. Zwingli? Where did you sleep?"

"That doesn't matter." he insisted, but guilt had already swept across her face.

"I'm very sorry, I shouldn't have taken the bed for myself—"

"Lili." he cut off her unwarranted apologies. "I chose to sleep on the floor, not you. You were too tired to even notice. So there is no need to blame yourself for something you did not do, understand?"

Lili, a little taken off guard by the interruption, slowly nodded.

Vash, a thorn of guilt pricking his own self at the sternness in his voice, looked away. "And you don't have to call me mister. It's too formal."

"Okay." she replied.

"We need to go to the market today for provisions. Is that alright with you?" he asked as he checked his traveler's pouch one last time.

"Yes, but…" she trailed off in hesitation. Vash turned to look at her in question, prompting her to continue. "Am I going to be…staying with you from now on…?"

Vash didn't respond immediately. He wasn't quite sure what to say. Despite having asked the question to himself numerous times, he still didn't know how to answer it. Handing her off to a stranger was unthinkable, but the danger she faced by going with him wasn't an appealing option either. He wanted her to be safe. He just didn't know what the best way to do that would be.

"Do you want to?" Vash finally questioned.

Lili blinked in surprise, as if she hadn't been expecting that reply. After a moment, a small, timid smile formed on her face. "Yes, I do."

"Then yes."

Lili stood up, smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress, and walked over to Vash. Vash glanced at her, still wondering if he had made the right decision, but then quickly cast his doubts aside. What was done was done, and at least by keeping her with him, he would be able to confirm her safety. He opened the door and walked into the main room of the inn.

The smell of freshly baked bread filled the room, reminding Vash of how hungry he was. A few other lodgers were sitting down at a table with a large breakfast and chatting merrily to each other. The manager looked up as she heard the door open, her expression hardening once again at the sight of the mercenary.

However, once Lili came within her view, the woman seemed to soften. Lili appeared much happier than last night and, when noticing the young girl's longing glance at the food, the mistress offered her a roll of bread.

Pleasantly surprised, Lili gratefully accepted it and thanked her. She took a bite of the warm food, the delicious flavor satisfying her taste buds. Then, remembering Vash, she broke it in half and offered one to him.

"No, that's for you. Keep it." Vash declined. Although she seemed a little uncertain, Lili started to eat the rest.

The manager, who had watched the scene with both increasing consideration and mild disbelief, picked up another roll and held it out to Vash. "Here."

Vash looked down at the bread and then back at her in confusion. Only moments ago she had clearly despised him with every fiber of her being. What had changed her mind so suddenly?

"Every paying customer gets lodging as well as food. It's only common courtesy." she explained, the edge in her voice belying the generosity of the action. Vash hesitated for a moment more, and then accepted the offering.

"Thank you." he replied. The manager gave a slight nod.

"You're welcome." she replied rather quickly and defensively, as if ready to deny that she had said such a thing at any moment.

After a soft spoken farewell from Lili to the mistress, the siblings left the inn. Vash led the way through the streets, his eyes darting around the setting and revealing his uneasiness. He truly did not want to be here. The quicker he was done, the better.

As they entered the bustling marketplace, sounds and smells assaulted their senses. The wide bazaar was full of loud merchants, bartering citizens, and a few quality animals idly standing next to their owners. Everything that a person could want was either lined up on a stall or proudly displayed to gain the most attention possible. With so many people around, Vash made sure to stay as close to LIli as possible. Lili obediently strode along behind, glancing around at the sights in curiosity, but never straying away from her elder brother.

As they moved between the stalls in search for the provisions Vash needed, Lili couldn't help but notice that everything Vash bought was the cheapest of its kind. That's not to say that it wasn't a good product; simply that he seemed to go out of his way to spend as little money as possible. However, she decided it best not to comment.

After buying several pieces of dried meat, he walked away from the stand and a little off to the side of the bazaar to place it inside his pouch. That particular stand had had a rather large amount of people, and he didn't want to stay in the others' way any more than necessary. As he looked down to close the pouch, something caught his attention in the corner of his eye. He quickly finished the task and glanced over his shoulder to check on Lili before giving the distraction his full attention.

Lili stood in front of the closest stall which seemed to have already sold most of its wares. She was chatting with the owner, a young dark-haired woman with a cheery smile on her face and a bounce in her step. Vash managed to hear snippets of their conversation over the murmurings of the crowd; it appeared that they were talking about a recent fashion trend among the noblewomen. Whether Lili was actually into the subject or just being polite, he couldn't tell. Either way, it afforded him time while her attention was elsewhere.

Vash backed up a few steps until he was directly in front of a narrow alley, successfully hiding the person who had caught his focus and that was now standing in the shadowed pathway.

"Yes, Crevan?" Vash prompted, his gaze remaining straight ahead as he spoke.

"How did your meeting with Armend go?" he asked.

"Far from well, but that doesn't matter now." he answered.

"I see you decided to have Lili stay with you." He noted almost casually.

Realization suddenly sparked in Vash's mind. "You knew that she was the inheritance, didn't you?" he accused.

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have gone if I did?"

Vash opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it. He could not deny Crevan's point.

Crevan did not push the subject further, knowing that he had already won his case. "But that is not why I am here."

"Job?" While this wasn't exactly the ideal place to talk about this topic, there was no point in querying about it now.

Crevan nodded. "A client has requested that you steal a particular trading document from a nobleman."

"Who is the nobleman?"

"Roderich Edelstein."

**I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

The calculating thoughts circulating inside Vash's head ground to a halt. Unbidden memories surfaced and infiltrated his consciousness with that one simple answer. He desperately tried to force them back down into the recesses of his mind where they had come from, locked away years ago. He did not want to think about the past. Not now, not ever.

"Vash?"

He blinked. The distraction of Crevan's voice thankfully dissipated the memories; at least for now.

"Yes…?" he responded.

"Is something wrong?"

"No." he answered more firmly. Regaining his composure, Vash mentally berated himself for allowing his self-control to slip. A mercenary cannot afford such shortcomings if they wish to survive long.

Crevan turned silent for a moment, as if contemplating Vash's reply, before continuing. "The nobleman's house," he said, purposely avoiding the name, "is on the north edge of town."

Vash noticed how the other skirted around the words and, although he did not appreciate the concern, decided not to comment on it. "Who is the client?"

"Kaspar Kristof. I assume you will begin soon?"

"I will." Vash had never heard of the person before, but that didn't matter. As long as he received payment for the task, he would gladly take it.

Vash glanced back through the crowd and at Lili, as if weighing options for a decision. Crevan patiently waited, allowing the mercenary to think through whatever problem he was facing.

"Crevan," he began, "do you have any immediate business elsewhere?"

"No. Why?" Crevan questioned.

"I need you to do me a favor. Can you look after Lili while I complete the mission?"

Surprised, Crevan straightened. That was certainly not what he expected. It was strange enough that Vash was asking for a favor—the mercenary hated the thought of owing someone—but to entrust his younger sister to him?

Crevan was not blind to the already solid bond that had formed between the two siblings. At first he had believed it was because of Lili's disposition; her very nature feigned an innocence that belied her age and begged to be protected. But now he could see that a much deeper familial link connected them, one of trust and dependence on one another. Despite only knowing each other for a very short time, they had rapidly developed that sense of closeness.

To allow someone else besides himself to watch over Lili was a difficult decision for Vash. However, if he was willing to give the responsibility to Crevan, then that could only mean that he truly did have some aspect of trust in Crevan as well.

"Yes, I can." Crevan finally answered.

"Thank you." The two words held a tone of dismissal, almost like an afterthought. "Meet us at the inn. I want to begin as soon as possible."

Crevan nodded and stepped back into the shadows of the alley, melting into the darkness. Vash glanced at Lili again, noticing that she seemed to be finishing up her conversation with the brunette, and started to walk toward her. A break in the sea of people temporarily provided him a better view of the two females, making Vash nearly stop in his tracks. The person Lili was talking to looked familiar...far too familiar. His eyes instantly strayed to the woman's light brown hair, in which a delicate orange flower resided by her ear.

Vash swiftly slunk back into the crowd. Dread quickened his pulse, filling him with the incessant need to leave the market _now._

He moved back and behind a particularly buse section of the bazaar, intent on keeping himself hidden in the mass of consumers. He did not, could not think about what would happen if she spotted him.

Luckily, Lili soon after bid her a pleasant farewell and left the stall. Vash cautiously glanced back at the woman, waiting until she turned away to speak with someone else, before daring to weave his way through the crowd and reach Lili.

She seemed surprised by his sudden appearance, as if she were able to tell that something wasn't right with Vash. She swallowed her questions and followed him out of the marketplace; it was difficult to hear much over the tumult of customers and merchants anyway. He led her back toward the inn, stopping next to the currently barren side of the building. Just as Lili opened her mouth to speak, a soft rustle announced Crevan's arrival.

Lili looked up at the cloaked figure with a mixture of wonder and curiosity. Despite the man's shady disposition, she did not seem afraid of him. Crevan glanced at Vash; Vash did not seem aware that it was only due to his acceptance of Crevan's presence that Lili did not feel the need to be frightened.

"Lili, Crevan is going to look after you for a little while. I need to go complete an errand." Vash declared.

Lili's attention shifted from the mysterious man to her brother. "Alright…"

"I won't be long." he promised. He then took one small step toward Crevan, lowering his voice to where only Crevan could hear.

"If she is harmed in any way, know that you _will _suffer."

Without giving time for a response, Vash walked off, his threat lingering in the air. Crevan silently watched him leave, knowing full well that Vash's warning was to be heeded if he wished to keep his life. Lili watched him go as well, unaware of the warning he had given to Crevan.

"Be careful, big brother."

* * *

Each forceful footstep felt laden with an invisible weight, protesting against the very earth he now treaded. He planted deep cautions and blocks within his memory, hoping that the dam would be enough to hold back the persistent images.

Vash paused at the edge of town, his form shaded by a thick tree whose canopy of leaves blocked out a small area of sunlight. He looked up at the land before him, his eyes following the worn trail that led out of the town before branching out into two different paths. One led into the plains beyond, revealing the way to the next city. The other curved right but remained fairly close to the town itself before leading up to a wealthy household.

The household of Roderich Edelstein.

Unlike the fairly simple houses lining the streets of the town, which usually consisted of confined spaces and shutters that covered the gaps in the walls serving as windows, it was fashioned of sturdy timber structuring and reliable stones or bricks. The two story building spanned across an area of at least double the normal size of a peasant's house. Windows contained real glass inside their frames, although the surface appeared slightly muddled due to the manufacturing process. A chimney sprouted from the left side, at the moment clear of any smoke that indicated a fire. Even though he couldn't see it from where he stood, he knew there to be a smaller lodging designed for the servants to live in. Nearby that more modest building was wide gardens lush with fruits and vegetables and the horse stables. A wooden fence surrounded it all, more for appearance than for protecting against intruders.

Vash took a deep breath to calm himself, and then started toward the home. He idly noticed the muggy moisture in the air that came before rain brushing over his face, making him glance up as he walked. In the short time that he had been standing next to that tree, clouds had already overwhelmed the struggling sun and spread across the sky. He looked back in front of him, making sure to keep his gaze focused just below the house to avoid having it fully within his vision.

Even the sky seemed to be going against him now.

He stepped away from the main entrance, knowing that it would be foolish to enter that way. He followed the side of the house that lead to the back and paused at the corner to glance around. Once he had confirmed that there were no servants currently working in the gardens, he quietly made his way to the back door.

His hand hesitated as it approached the wooden door. Due to the time of day being around noon, most of the servants should be out shopping while the nobles left for meetings with other aristocrats. He could slip inside without suspicion as long as he wasn't seen; the servants would assume that another worker was entering and would not think anything of it.

Bracing himself, Vash slowly opened the door. Its creaking hinges resounded in his ears, increasing his anxiety. Once he had a large enough sliver of space to see, he took a moment to check the surrounding area before slipping inside. He carefully shut the door behind him.

He turned away from the door only to be assaulted by a barrage of reminiscences.

Vash currently stood in a store room where mostly food and objects for the gardens were kept. Small bags of picked onions, garlic, and potatoes lay on the ground off to the side. Flour resided next to it, powdery fingerprints dotting the edge of the sack from its last use. Assorted spices of all types lined the shelves along with other various ingredients. Salted or dried meats were the most painstakingly preserved and were by far the most common item in the room. The doorway led into the kitchen and from there the hall. Thick and decorative tapestries hung on the walls, safely distanced away from flickering candles.

All of these were familiar sights that triggered his memories and gave them the strength to taint his conscious mind with fleeting flashbacks.

Hiding behind a tapestry in a game of hide-and-seek…sneaking into the storeroom to take a sweet…a vase shattering as a careless swing knocks it off the table…

All past misadventures with _them._

He shut his eyes for a moment, attempting to stem off the flow of remembrances.

Remain calm. They're not even here.

His eyelids lifted as he tried to follow his own advice. Vash treaded quietly down the hallway, passing by a few other rooms before reaching the staircase. His steps shifted slightly upon each stair, moving to avoid the creakiest boards; a habit developed from countless nights of sneaking up those same stairs.

After a few minor, nerve wracking squeaks that emitted from the expensive wood, he entered the second floor. He quickly checked down the hall for any servants. A shuffling sound came from one of the closed rooms; probably a maid rearranging and dusting the books or trinkets inside.

Vash cautiously made his way over to the closest room on his left. By some miracle, the door managed to only let out a tiny squeal that was barely audible over the servant's working. He moved inside and closed the door behind him.

Stuffed bookshelves lined two opposing walls, many crinkling with age. A wooden desk and chair was pressed up against the wall with papers, quills, and bottles of dark ink strewn across the surface. A lone candle, burned down to a small stub, lay on the corner. A window illuminated the room, allowing weak rays of sunlight to shed just enough light for Vash to distinguish the different documents.

Keeping the client's name in mind, his eyes scanned over the writing on each paper or scroll. He turned over or moved the papers to reach the ones buried underneath, careful not to create too much noise.

After several minutes, he finally looked over the last paper. He scrutinized the flowing script and checked over it twice before irritably setting it back down.

There was no document, trading or otherwise, with the signature of a Kaspar Kristof.

Most might think that it could be in a different part of the house, but Vash knew that was not possible. He knew the owner too well to believe that. The nobleman took meticulous measures to keep all of his work in one place, which meant that it was not here. It probably didn't even exist.

Confusion and indignation swelled within him, briefly overpowering the memories knocking at his mind's door. He shifted the documents back into a similar array from how they had been before, in seemingly disorderly patterns or piles that made sense only to the owner. Once he finished, he glanced at the desk one more time, as if confirming that the document really wasn't there.

Questions, edged with suspicion, overrode his thoughts. Why would someone send him on a false mission? Who was Kaspar Kristof anyway? Did Crevan know about this? Who—

Light footsteps interrupted his train of thought. He tensed as the steps walked up the stairs and into the hallway. Barely daring to breathe, he listened as the person walked right past the room he was in and opened the room two doors down from the one Vash was in. The sounds of cleaning ceased and were replaced by the chatter of two female voices. Vash silently stepped closer to the door in order to hear more clearly.

"—is going to return later than expected, but she should be back shortly."

"Alright. I'm finished in here."

"Good, you can help me fix up the pantry for when she comes back from the market."

"Sure. I still can't believe how much your daughter insists on doing so much on her own."

"She's always been independent; it's just who she is. I won't get in her way."

"I suppose so…but it doesn't look very good for a noblewoman."

"Do you really think she cares about that? Trust me, dear, she's stronger than half the men you will ever meet."

The two women exited the room and left, their shoes creaking down the staircase. Vash didn't move until he was sure that they were gone.

He quickly but quietly left the room and paused at the top of stairs, listening intently. Upon hearing nothing, he warily made his way down, and then stopped again at the bottom.

Sure enough, he could hear the two servants' idle gossip coming from the storeroom, which meant that he would have to use the main entrance.

Vash walked through the hall and into the spacious dining room. He passed by the high-backed chairs and expensive wood table to reach the door, which he then opened. Damp air welcomed him as he closed the door, soaking rain falling from the dark heavens and saturating the ground below. His boots squelched in the mud, already formed despite the storm having only started a few minutes ago.

Ignoring stealth in favor of speed—the rain should provide him some cover from far off, anyway—he trotted down the shallow incline.

A sudden, gripping feeling that something wasn't right pricked at his mind. Instinctively bringing his hand to rest on his sword's hilt, he glanced back. The house was still well within his sight, although the windows were starting to blur into the rest of the building due to the precipitation and distant location.

He turned back around and started walking again, but never released his hold on the weapon.

The distinct sensation of being watched flashed within his being, tightening his muscles in preparation of an attack.

A moment later, the sound of a blade slicing through the air whistled in his ears.

Vash whirled around, his sword drawn in the blink of an eye, and blocked the attack in no time to spare. Sparks ignited as the blades momentarily clashed against each other, lighting up the dark atmosphere. The aggressor, taken off guard by the retaliation, jumped back.

Vash took the opportunity to assess his situation. Three men surrounded him, each with a gleaming sword drawn. The men all wore helmets that served to hide their identities and kept the raindrops out of their eyes; an unexpected added bonus that Vash didn't have. Thick plates protected their burly bodies and which he recognized as the average knight armor.

He didn't have time to question why knights were attacking him before another attack came in the form of a slashing blade. Vash quickly moved to intercept the blow, his sword colliding with his opponent's. In the corner of his eye, his attention was drawn to the second knight, who was charging straight at him with weapon raised. Vash roughly pushed back with a sudden show of force that surprised the assailant and sent him stumbling backward a few steps; a perfect opening.

The vicious blade bearing down toward Vash's right forced him to leave the temporary advantage in favor of jerking backward to successfully avoid the blow. Before he could counterattack, a flash of pain flared as yet another sword pierced through the thin armor protecting his forearm. He impulsively jolted away from the harm before it could cause any major damage. A thin trickle of blood leaked from between the damaged plates.

Despite it being a minor wound, adrenaline spiked through his veins. He instantly determined one menacing conclusion; if he didn't take at least one of them out, then he had no chance of defeating them.

His heart racing, Vash waited for them to make the next move. It took only a moment until they were all charging at him at once, angling themselves in order to strike at different sides. Just when the first weapon would have carved into his head, he swiftly sidestepped around the right most assailant. The knight brought his steps to a halt, struggling not to slide in the slippery mud. Vash sliced toward the side, but a last second shift on the knight's part caused his sword to ricochet harmlessly off of the breast plate. Gritting his teeth as the metal in his hand reverberated from the failed attack, the mercenary quickly bent his knees to gain leverage, similar to a coiled spring. Angling his blade in a steep incline, he sprung and thrust upwards at the small, unguarded area on the abdomen where the armor ended to allow mobility before being taken up by more metal an inch farther down. The sword plunged through the layer of leather, pierced through skin, and slit the insides and organs within.

Vash brutally pulled the blade out of the man's stomach. The knight collapsed to the slimy ground, blood pooling out of the wound. His shuddering gasps indicated that he was not yet dead, but it wouldn't be long.

An angered yell alerted Vash to the next oncoming assault. He whirled around to face the last two aggressors, red liquid dripping off of his sword. He dodged out of the way from the first's attack and blocked the second's. He pressed his blade against his opponent's in an attempt to use the strategy he had earlier. Instead of taking the other off guard, the knight pushed back. The taut muscles in Vash's arms strained as their weapons locked in a struggle of strength.

Wary of the other standing knight, Vash glanced over to see the soldier kneeling next to his fallen comrade. His concentration was suddenly jolted back to the burning in his arms as his combatant, fueled with wrath for his fatally wounded companion, used all of his strength against Vash. Vash gripped the hilt of his sword tighter as he tried to keep the knight back.

Vash's hold on the rain slicked hilt slipped.

The assailant rapidly jerked his blade as Vash's faltered, twisting the mercenary's weapon out of his grip. The sword flew off to the side and landed on the saturated trail.

The mercenary stumbled back in surprise. A sharp sting blossomed from his leg as a sword sliced through the flesh from the underside of his knee and down toward the back of his ankle.

The other knight had returned to the battle.

Vash's left leg buckled, unable to handle the intense strain. He barely managed to catch himself from crashing completely by falling to his hands and knees. Incapable of handling his weight, the mercenary's leg burned from the injury as he struggled in vain to stand. The efforts proved useless as the muddy ground caused him to slide with every movement and only served to aggravate his wound.

Mind racing, Vash looked over to where his sword lay. It was just out of his reach, but maybe if he dived for it—

Pain erupted in his stomach. His eyes widened in shock. Before his stunned mind could even comprehend what was happening, the pain suddenly turned unbearably excruciating as the offending blade was yanked out of his flesh.

Vash collapsed to the ground, his energy draining as fast as the blood flowing out of the lower right of his abdomen. The watery mud coated his skin and drenched his hair as the rain relentlessly pounded down on his weakening form. The red liquid streaming from his deep wounds mixed with the flooded loam and tainted the slime a sinister crimson.

His blurring vision barely managed to discern his attackers, their figures hazy and unfocused. The two standing knights, carrying their dying comrade, departed into the rain and out of his quickly failing sight.

Overwhelming exhaustion spread throughout his body and forced his eyelids to close. As the storm continued on, heedless of the mercenary's waning life, Vash slipped into suffocating darkness.

**I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

The patter of raindrops on the inn's roof echoed in the apprehensive silence. Crevan sat in the table closest to the corner of the room, restlessly running his thumb over a small, rough repair stich on the edge of his dark cloak.

Normally he would feel fairly at ease in the nearly empty area, where only he and Lili sat. The owner was off in the backroom, and had been for the past hour. Any other customers were holed up in their rooms, unwilling to face the brewing storm outside.

Despite the normally welcoming quiet, an incessant, almost ominous feeling hovered just at the edge of his mind. The steady rhythm of the rain pressed down on him further, somehow sounding even worse than complete silence.

"Mr. Crevan…" He turned to look at Lili, her voice tinted with anxiousness. With nothing left for her to do, Lili had been repeatedly braiding and unbraiding her long hair as they waited in an attempt to take her mind off of worrying. By the sound of it, it wasn't working.

"Vash has been gone for a while…can we go look for him?" she asked.

Crevan hesitated. True, he himself believed that the simple mission was taking much too long, but bringing Lili into potential danger was not an appealing thought. But he couldn't just leave her here, either.

"Something might have happened to him," Lili continued. "He might need help."

Crevan contemplated for a moment more before conceding. "Alright. But make sure to stay close to me."

Lili nodded and quickly stood from her chair. Crevan followed suit and led the way outside, closing the door behind them. Rain immediately assaulted the duo as they trudged through the muddying roads and toward the edge of town.

It took mere minutes before they were soaked. Crevan's cloak stuck uncomfortably to his skin, but he was faring much better than Lili. Her hair appeared plastered to her head and her dress clung to her calves. She also started to shiver, sending a flash of guilt through Crevan. He should have realized that her clothes were not made for this weather.

Visibility was diminished greatly by the falling water and obscuring clouds. Crevan became increasingly uneasy and frustrated whenever he would try to look ahead of them only to be able to see a few feet of saturated soil that seemed to melt into the haze of pounding precipitation.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trekking over the soggy paths, Crevan recognized a large shadow tree that grew close to the edge of the town. A sense of both accomplishment and dread trickled into his bones. They had made it this far, but still no sign of Vash.

Crevan led Lili toward the tree and stood under the sheltering leaves protection, receiving a moment's respite from the harsh falling rain. Lili rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to retain some warmth, her small and soaked form shivering. Crevan peered through the rain, struggling to distinguish any contours through the concealing weather. His eyes grazed over the dark and shadowed landscape, trying to make out anything different from the muddy browns and soft grays.

His eyes stopped on a strange fixture that seemed to be lying on the barely distinguishable path. Eyes narrowing, he painstakingly tried to make out what it was, but to no avail. It was simply too dark.

As if on cue, a bright flash of blinding white streaked across the sky. It temporarily lit up the surrounding area, giving Crevan a clearer view. Metal gleamed, appearing almost bleached under the brilliant light, along with a chillingly recognizable blur of color that abruptly interrupted the steely shine and froze Crevan's heart mid-beat.

Blood.

He leapt forward out from under the leafy canopy just as the lightning faded to be followed by a deafening rumble of thunder. Lili jumped at the sudden noise and quickly ran to catch up to Crevan, frightened by his urgency. Crevan barely even noticed as she struggled to keep up with him, each squelching footstep trying to suck her deeper into the thick mud.

He reached Vash's side and dropped to his knees, ignoring the dirty water that splashed onto his already drenched cloak. His eyes quickly scanned over Vash's body, but he already knew that the situation was dire.

Vash's chest heaved with irregular and labored breaths, oxygen leaving his lungs as quickly as it entered. A few cuts blemished his armor and leaked red fluid, but none more so than the one on his abdomen. Blood welled from between a slit in the metal and spilled over the side, completely concealing the wound itself. Even more of the sinister liquid oozed out from underneath him and mixed into the rainwater puddles, indicating that the injury went all the way through.

Crevan pressed his hands to the deep wound. It took mere seconds for the sickeningly warm blood to seep out from between his fingers.

His mind raced, desperate for a plan. If Vash remained here much longer, then he would surely die. It would take too long to carry him, and Crevan didn't think he was strong enough to do so anyway. He could get Lili to send for help, but that would take too long.

He gritted his teeth in both frustration and increasing helpless panic. Was there _anything_ he could do?

A gasp distracted him from his thoughts, barely audible over the storm. It was feminine but sounded slightly lower than Lili's voice, causing him to turn.

A young brunette woman stood there, her arms laden with what looked to be a wool sack of groceries. Her mouth was slightly agape and her deep green eyes swam with roiling emotions; surprise, confusion, and concern.

Lili had turned to look as well, recognition sparking from behind her panic. "Miss…from the market…?" Lili questioned. Her quiet words, almost drowned out by the unforgiving rain, seemed to break the woman out of her stupor.

She immediately dropped the bag she carried, uncaring for its contents, and rushed over to stand beside Crevan. Fierce determination burned in her eyes, replacing her shock.

"You take his legs and I'll take his front." she ordered, already moving toward Vash's head. She leaned down, preparing to lift him, and then glanced back at Crevan. "Well? Hurry! We don't have much time!"

Her barked orders startled Crevan into action. He removed his bloody hands from Vash's torso and quickly stepped over to his legs, trying not to skid in his haste. Once he was ready, the young woman started a hasty countdown.

"Lift on 3…2…1!"

They lifted Vash off of the ground. A mixture of water and blood slid off of his armor and dripped onto the ground as they started to move. The brunette led the way, looking behind her every now and then to check their distance. Crevan was quickly able to determine that they were headed toward the Edelstein house, but all that mattered right now was Vash.

The duo made their way down the path as quickly as they could while Lili numbly walked beside them, unsure what to do. Crevan's arm muscles began to strain after a few minutes from the heavy burden, making him briefly note that the person helping him was surprisingly strong for a woman. Not only was Vash not a lightweight to begin with, but the heavy rain and armor nearly added another forty pounds they had to contend with.

As they approached the large house, the young woman turned her head to look at Lili. "Lili, open the door for us. Don't bother to knock."

Lili nodded and increased her pace so that she was just ahead of them. Another few agonizing minutes passed before they finally reached the building. Lili hastily opened the door, stepped in, and held the door open for them. The struggling pair stepped inside, leaving the torrents of rain and darkness outside and entering the warm well-lit dining room.

A maid stood nearby, her eyes widening as she noticed the bleeding man they carried between them. "Elizaveta….what—?!"

"Go get Mother and tell her to bring the medical supplies!" she ordered. The maid, startled by the demanding tone of urgency, quickly scrambled out of the room and down the hall.

"Get him onto the table." Elizaveta said. Crevan complied and helped lift Vash a little higher so that they could slide him onto the table.

Lili closed the door and hesitantly took a few steps forward on the slippery floor, slick with the water dripping off of all three of their forms. Unaware of her own shivering, she felt an overwhelming sense of concern and helplessness as she looked upon the unconscious mercenary.

A middle-aged woman, followed by the other two maids of the house, rushed in while carrying a small wooden box stuffed with various medical items. She quickly took note of the situation, set the box down on the table, and started to pull everything out of the case.

"Get the armor off him." The woman instructed. Crevan and Elizaveta quickly moved and worked to remove the damaged armor.

"Annalie, take the girl and dry her off." Elizaveta's mother continued. The mentioned maid walked over to Lili and placed a hand on the young girl's shoulder.

"Come, let's get you some dry clothes." Annalie suggested, gently turning Lili toward the hallway. Lili reluctantly allowed her to do so, but her eyes remained fixated on the scene with overwhelming worry.

Elizaveta's mother continued to give orders as she began to work on the deepest wound set into Vash's abdomen. Using a needle and thread, she quickly began to pierce the skin and stitch, struggling to keep her hold on the needle already slippery with blood. Crevan bandaged Vash's other, much more minor wounds. The remaining maid ran back and forth between the room and other parts of the house, grabbing and transporting rags or other absorbent material to hand off to Elizaveta. Elizaveta did her best to soak up the blood that flowed over Vash's skin and onto the table, each rag's clean fibers quickly becoming tainted by the color red.

"He'll be alright." Annailie reassured. "If anyone can save him, it's Meryl."

Lili finally dragged her gaze away from Vash to look at the maid. Annalie's smile looked strained and her brown eyes were flooded with an uncertainty that twisted Lili's stomach into a cold, hard knot. However, she didn't resist as Annalie led her away from the hall. Unbidden tears began to cloud her vision and flow down her rain-soaked cheeks, the reality of the direness of the situation gripping her heart like a vice.

A silent prayer formed in her mind as she left the coppery-scented room behind.

_You can't die now big brother. You have to make it. Please…_

**I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Meryl quietly closed the door behind her, the almost inaudible creak that emanated piercing through the thick silence like a knife. Elizaveta waited anxiously in the hallway, her eyes glimmering with worry as her mother approached.

"Will he…?" Elizaveta hesitated, reluctant to say the dreaded words, as if just saying them would make the horrible notion come true.

"Will he make it?" Meryl finished for her. She reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I would say very unlikely…"

Elizaveta sucked in a horrified breath.

"But this is Vash." her mother continued, a small but weary smile playing on her lips. "He's always been a strong boy. I have faith in him."

Elizaveta sighed in relief. "Thank goodness…" The terrifying doubts that had been plaguing her mind eased, allowing her some respite. Exhaustion from the night's events suddenly washed over her in a wave, the dam of concern having been crushed from her thoughts.

It had been so long since she had last seen Vash. She couldn't, and wouldn't, lose him after finally finding him again.

"However," Meryl began, causing Elizaveta to look up in question, "I don't think Roderich will take seeing Vash again as well as you."

"Why not?" she asked.

"I'm sure you heard what happened those two years ago. He hasn't spoken about Vash since, and he is still bitter about the whole ordeal."

"I suppose you're right." Elizaveta admitted. Just the other day, when Elizaveta had simply mentioned a small game that all three of them had played as children, Roderich had turned away and refused to continue the conversation. "Vash probably won't like it much either."

Meryl nodded. "Although there is something else that interests me."

"What's that?"

"That young girl that was with him. She thinks the world of him, I could see it in her eyes. Almost like she's—"

"His sister?" Elizaveta confirmed the suspicion. "Annalie told me that's what she said before she managed to get her to bed. What I can't believe is how attached she is to him. She's only known him since yesterday, and yet she acts like she's known him for years."

"A lot can happen in a day." Meryl responded.

"Something really big must have happened. He's not exactly the friendliest person to be around."

"I think she might actually be good for Vash."

"Really? Why?"

"As willing as that girl is to stick by his side, he must care for her as well. Not to mention that if he didn't, he would have dropped her off somewhere and left in the blink of an eye. I think she might already be changing him. Vash had been turning colder and more distant before he left. I know you noticed it too."

Elizaveta's gaze shifted to the ground. Yes, she had noticed it. In those last few days Vash had hardly spoken to anyone and had kept to himself. More than once he had left during the night only to return the next day with a batch of injuries that he refused to explain. It was as if he had been trying to cut himself off from even his own friends, friends that had wanted nothing more than to help him.

"You should get some rest." Meryl suggested. "With this storm, Roderich won't be able to come home until morning."

"Alright." she relented. "What are you going to do?"

"There's someone I need to speak to." With that, Meryl walked down the corridor, leaving Elizaveta in the somber hallway.

* * *

"So you're calling yourself Crevan now?"

Crevan nearly jumped in surprise, his tired muscles tensing almost painfully. He whirled around in his seat to face the speaker.

"You didn't really think I wouldn't recognize you, did you?" Meryl questioned as she walked up to him. In her hand she held a mass of dark fabric which she quickly tossed to him. He caught it easily and examined it, his fingers feeling the coarse fibers. It appeared to be a cloak, similar to the one he was wearing. His skin crawled as he was reminded of the still-wet clothing that was clinging to his frame. Although grateful, he looked up at her questioningly.

"Thought you might want something dry." Meryl explained. He nodded his thanks but did not move to put it on. Not that she expected him to take down his hood while she was in the room.

"I never thought that I would see you again." she continued.

"You weren't supposed to." he replied quietly.

"Which means that you aren't going to tell me how you're still alive." Meryl assumed—correctly, Crevan knew. "But don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"…how did you recognize me?"

"I was suspicious when I heard your voice. It's deeper now, but still similar. But it's your eyes that convinced me. No one else has that hazy shade of gray."

Crevan bit his lip. Even now he disliked how the older woman was able to piece puzzles together so quickly. It unnerved him and put him on edge, warily waiting and watching.

They stayed there in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments. The air seemed to suffocate him, pushing down like a heavy weight. Crevan shifted uncomfortably, feeling Meryl's searching gaze probing his very presence.

Finally, after an agonizingly long time that had seemed to stretch indefinitely, Meryl spoke.

"Well, it's about time I give these old bones some rest." Meryl announced, walking toward the door. She paused just as she reached out to push it open and looked back at Crevan. "There's one more thing I want to tell you before I go."

"…what is it?"

"You can't keep running forever. You'll have to stop sometime. And when that happens, be careful not to stumble and fall to your own undoing."

**I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

Consciousness slowly and lazily floated just out of mind's reach. It almost seemed to be playing a game, teasingly coming closer and closer before suddenly dissipating and reappearing even farther away. The mind remained in shadow, grasping out blindly in the darkness for the taunting fellow who held the light of the waking world. Finally, after several tricks and escapades, awareness lingered for an instant too long and was successfully seized by its pursuer and forced to give up its prize.

Vash gradually opened his eyes.

Unable to distinguish nothing more than a russet brown color hanging above him, he blinked a few times, willing his perception to focus, and was met with the clear picture of a ceiling. For a moment he simply laid there, his sluggish mind reaching out for coherent thought.

Suddenly, his last memories returned to him in a jumbled rush. Receiving a job from Crevan, sneaking into a house, attacked brutally by strange knights—

His eyes widened and his body instinctively tensed, now fully awake. The instinctive motion earned him a violent protest from his overstrained muscles and a flash of pain from his abdomen. Gritting his teeth, he waited a few seconds for the pain to recede to a dull ache, and then turned his head to examine the room.

Vash was lying on a wide, admittedly comfortable bed. Small wooden tables with a single drawer sat next to both sides of the bed, each holding a candle. Drops of cold wax lay frozen and deformed on the sides and the end of the candle wick was charred from a previous but now dead flame. A tall wardrobe occupied one corner. A window, the sleek curtains drawn to allow the sunlight unrestricted passage, kept the room bright and warm. A chair, obviously out of place in the bedroom, had been placed next to the bed.

The other objects that had caught his attention were several delicate white flowers set on the table to his left. The pure whiteness of the softly pointed petals created a stark contrast against the dark wood of the table. A sweet smell lingered in the air from the fresh green stems, as if they had been recently plucked.

The mercenary continued to observe his surroundings, a spark of familiarity nagging at the back of his mind. He had been here before, but he couldn't quite place where exactly here was. He glanced toward the windows and to the world outside, noting the gardens and a small building over to the side. A young man wearing worn clothes smudged with dirt exited that building. He was carrying a gardening tool of some sort, and walked into the center of the field before working on the plants.

Then it clicked. His observation suddenly ground to a dreadful conclusion, sending alarm racing through his veins once again. Mentally berating himself for not recognizing it sooner, Vash braced himself and agonizingly slowly started to force himself into a sitting position. He tried to ignore the fierce claws digging into his stomach with every movement that quickly started to make his head spin with the effort.

Roderich's house was not a place for the likes of Vash. And Vash knew that fact better than anyone else.

"Vash Zwingli, you are in no condition to be moving around."

Vash froze at the familiar voice.

"Mother already had to stitch you up once. I'm not going to let you kill yourself while you're in my house, so I suggest you lay back down." Elizaveta sternly reprimanded as she walked through the doorway and into his room. Vash hadn't even heard her open the door.

Elizaveta walked up to his bedside, her arms crossed to show that she would not be satisfied until he complied. Vash, even after years of seeing that same pressing look, was almost drawn to obey. Only his own stubbornness coupled with the discomfort of the situation kept him from laying down in that instant.

Instead, his gaze averted to a spot on the edge of the soft blankets, his tense body screaming at him to ease and lie back down. But he wasn't about to do that.

Now that the covers had slid off of the upper half of his body, Vash finally got a glimpse of the damage done by the knights. Of what was covering it, anyway. White bandages were securely bound around his torso with specks of dried blood showing through the thick material. His forearm and leg also seemed to have been treated, judging by the stiffness of the skin.

Elizaveta sighed, allowing her arms to fall to her sides in a less intimidating stance. Maybe being so harsh on him while he was this weak wasn't such a great idea. If he was acting like this now, then she definitely would have to make sure not to mention Roderich. For now, at least.

"Vash," she repeated his name more gently this time, almost as if she were trying to soothe a frightened and dangerous animal. "Please, calm down. Stressing out like this isn't going to help you heal faster. It doesn't matter where you are right now. Just focus on resting, alright?"

Vash didn't respond, his gaze set firmly on the bed sheets. Her words just seemed to glance off of him with no effect at all. Elizaveta, disappointed by his lack of any reaction, bit her lip in thought. She was not just going to leave like this. But question was, how was she going to get something from him?

She nearly snapped her fingers in revelation as an idea popped into her mind. She knew just the thing.  
"I didn't know you had a sister." Elizaveta commented, almost idly.

That made Vash look up. A small but well hidden flash of guilt shone in his eyes. He had been so worried about himself and getting out of the house that he hadn't even thought about her. What kind of brother was he? "Is Lili alright?" he asked tentatively.

A smile formed on Elizaveta's face in satisfaction at her idea' success. "She's fine. You know, she does look quite a bit like you. A lot different in the personality department, though. Maybe you should go to her for lessons on how to deal with people." she jibed, and then asked, "So, why is she traveling with you?"

"My—our father died recently. I went back home to claim my inheritance, and that inheritance turned out to be Lili. I didn't even know about her until then." he explained.

"Really?" she questioned. "He never told you about her? I wonder why."

"I'm not surprised. He never did tell me anything, even when he was sober." he responded, an icy bite in his tone at the mention of his father.

This time, it was Elizaveta's turn to look away. This wasn't how she had wanted the conversation to go at all.

Vash, as if sensing how much he had darkened the mood, spoke up again. "Where is Lili?"

"Annalie's teaching her how to make bracelets out of flowers." she answered, relieved that he had changed the subject. "That reminds me, I should be getting down there soon so I can help Annalie and Christie what to make for lunch." She turned around and started walking to the door, but then paused and looked back over her shoulder.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Lili picked those flowers for you." With that, Elizaveta left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

**So sorry about the wait! I honestly don't have an excuse except for laziness. I'm going to try to put up another chapter in the next few days to make up for it. I hope you enjoy and please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

Something was wrong. It was in the tense air, in the quiet whisperings of wary customers, in the nervous glances toward the door; it affected everything and anything within, coating them in a suffocating blanket of caution and heedfulness that put all beings inside on edge.

Crevan immediately sensed this thick atmosphere the moment he entered the Cattic Tavern. It grated against his honed perceptions and sent him urgent messages that warned something was amiss. He quickly glanced around, subconsciously pulling his cloak tighter around himself.

Very few people currently occupied the building, most of them hesitant customers by the looks of their simple peasant clothing and wide eyes. Only two mercenaries sat near the back, indicated by the sheathed swords strapped to their waists. They exchanged hushed words and sipped ale, and would have appeared to be unaffected by the anxious atmosphere if it weren't for the unnecessarily tight grips on their glasses of liquor and the watchful glances they sent toward Crevan when he had entered. Every person had taken a seat on the outskirts, forsaking the exposed center tables for a shadier and hopefully safer location.

A faint clink of wooden objects being tapped against each other resounded surprisingly loud over the incomprehensible murmurings of the people, even startling one or two customers. Crevan turned to look at where the noise had originated, having already guessed the source.

A young man stood behind the counter, the barely noticeable movement of his jaw setting revealing a slight irritation—or maybe exasperation, his expression gave nothing away to tell—at having accidentally knocked two mugs together, inadvertently drawing attention to himself. The emotion only lasted a moment before disappearing into his normal unreadable guise. He absentmindedly readjusted the off white keffiyeh that covered his head and framed his face, picked up one of the mugs, and began to thoroughly wipe it down with a nearby rag.

Crevan walked up to the counter and sat down on one of the wooden stools directly in front of the man, who continued his task without even looking up once at the other.

"Gupta, why is this place so empty?" Crevan asked, keeping his voice low. Just because there were not many people there didn't mean that he was safe from being overheard, a fact he knew only too well.

"Many of the mercenaries have stopped coming around in the past few days." Gupta answered. He didn't need to take the effort to keep himself quiet; his voice was naturally soft and almost monotone, nearly blending in with the unnatural quiet around them.

"Why is that?"

"Probably because they have no wish to die."

"What do you mean?" he continued to question, surprise flickering through him. Mercenaries were willing to go through almost anything to get jobs and money, even if it meant facing the jaws of death. What could possibly be stopping them?

Gupta finally moved the mug aside, set down the rag, and looked straight at Crevan. His intense golden brown eyes locked onto Crevan's hazy gray pupils for one silent moment, as if he could read every hidden thought just through sight. Crevan was both entranced and repelled, vulnerable yet mesmerized by the orbs in front of him. He felt like he was staring into the depths of an ancient mystery, one so complex that not even a god could unravel.

The spell was broken with Gupta's next words.

"King Conrad has ordered the execution of all mercenaries upon sight."

Crevan blinked, suddenly disoriented as the reality of the words swiftly snipped off the threads of Gupta's strange influence. He shook his head, trying to clear away the last fibers as the implications of what the other had said took hold.

"That can't be right…he can't just order the deaths of hundreds of people." he stated, attempting to convince himself as much as Gupta. "Besides, how can they tell who is a mercenary and who isn't?"

Gupta retrieved the temporarily forgotten mugs and rag, once again focusing his gaze on the glasses as he swiped the cloth over them. "There are a few certain distinctions of a mercenary. Swords, armor with no emblems, scars."

"But a mercenary could easily just hide his weapon, or a normal citizen holding a sword could be accused." Crevan argued.

"That doesn't matter. Only if there is great doubt that the alleged person is a mercenary will they question them. But, as I am sure you have guessed, that is highly unlikely. Even you—"

"Gupta?" A middle aged woman interrupted Gupta's sentence as she walked out of the back room and up to the counter. Golden wristlets and necklaces jangled softly in time to each of her steps; whether they were actual gold, Crevan could not tell, but it still earned her an impressive demeanor.

"I do hope that you're not frightening him." Her words were kind, and yet her face barely moved, as if the muscles were unable to mirror the emotions.

"Mother." Gupta's tone was not reprimanding or joyful, merely a recognition of the person in front of him.

She glanced between the two young men for a moment, and Crevan noticed that she had the same enigmatic eyes as her son. Her deep irises appeared naturally more feminine, harboring an almost romantic allure of mystery. "This situation is only temporary, I'm sure. A rash order such as this cannot stand for long in the eyes of counsel." she reassured.

"I hope that is the case." Crevan responded. "Even so, it would probably be best if I lea—"

"Knights!"

The tavern suddenly burst into a realm of fear and chaos. Everyone jumped up from their seats, scrambling to find a way out of here, but the only apparent exit was the front door. The man, one of the mercenaries and also the one to sound the call of alarm, immediately slammed the door and moved away. The force used to shut the door sent the wood bouncing against the wall twice before finally settling, half-open.

Crevan stood, adrenaline rushing through his veins as his eyes darted around the vicinity, only to find himself in a similar position to the others.

Crevan knew that his dark cloak would make him an immediate target, not to mention that if he were caught and forced to take off his hood…he had to avoid that at all costs.

"Everyone, this way!" Gupta's mother announced. She raised one delicate hand and gestured toward behind the counter, to the door that led to the backroom and was normally off limits to customers. She opened the door and the people inside rushed over without question, frantically pushing each other through the doorway. Crevan stepped forward as well, prepared to leave, but then paused when he noticed that Gupta had not joined his mother and was instead peeking just around the front door to catch a glimpse of how close the knights were.

After a moment, Gupta cast a look to his mother, which she turned to catch. A silent conversation seemed to occur, one that Crevan could not follow. It ended once she reluctantly turned back to the backroom's door, watching the last couple of stragglers make their way through.

Gupta stepped outside.

"We have orders from the King to shut down this establishment immediately under the suspicion of mercenary activity!" The boom of an authoritative voice nearly made Crevan jump. The knight that had spoken had to be only a few feet away from the entrance, stepping up Crevan's apprehension tenfold. Despite this, he moved even closer, pressing himself to the wall just next to the door to gain a view where he could see the scene without being seen himself.

He briefly questioned why he hadn't left with the others; Gupta was nothing more than a formal acquaintance, one that he went to only when he wanted information. Gupta had never shown any sort of companionship toward Crevan either—then again, any sort of sentiment or emotion seemed practically impossible for him to show. Gupta's mother had always been kind to everyone, if a little distant. Crevan couldn't just leave them like this.

"Are you the owner of this place?" another knight demanded, the haughtiness lacing his voice so sickening that it stirred up disgust in Crevan's mind.

"Yes." Gupta answered simply. He calmly stood in front of the group of five knights, never once breaking face even as the armored men reached for the swords attached to their waists.

"Then we must arrest you immediately."

Before Crevan could react, he felt a sudden cool wind buffet his cloak as Gupta's mother rushed out of the tavern to stand in front of her son. Gupta stiffened as she bravely faced the soldiers.

"This tavern originally belonged to my husband and was given to me upon his death." she spoke urgently, each word hinted with a soft yet acute determination. "I am the owner."

The knights glanced at each other, and then the middle one stepped forward. "Then we'll just take both of you."

"There is no need." she insisted. "He has nothing to do with this. I run the establishment, so I—"

A sharp gasp cut off her sentence as the knight roughly and unexpectedly shoved her to the ground. She landed harshly on her side, grass and dirt digging into her skin and staining her previously pure white dress.

"Annoying wench." the soldier muttered, and a few dark chuckles from the others showed their agreement.

In the blink of an eye Gupta had moved from standing behind with an expression of shock overriding his impassive mask to down on his knees in front of his parent, a gleaming dagger clenched in his hand and pointing straight at the knights. His golden eyes burned and sparked dangerously with a fierce, unforgiving fire that threated to incinerate everything in its way until not even an ash remained.

"Any closer and you all die." his low growl came from deep within his chest, an almost primal ferocity granting it merciless strength.

Unadulterated terror snared Crevan's body for a brief moment that seemed to last an eternity. He wasn't even on the receiving end of the threat, but he still felt the full fury and wrath just waiting to spring and devour the first person that dared to challenge it.

Then, Gupta's mother laid a gentle hand on his wielding arm. He blinked, the ruthless instinct that had transformed his soul into a vessel of vengeance suddenly releasing its hold and dissipating into the recesses of his mind at her pacifying touch. He glanced down at her in concern, his anger forgotten.

"Gupta." She spoke his name soothingly and evenly, her hand squeezing his arm just the slightest. "We'll be alright."

He seemed to hesitate, and then the tensed muscles strangling the hilt of his dagger loosened. He allowed the weapon to slip from his fingers and fall to the ground. Just as the blade pierced the earth, Gupta's face returned back to its neutral if wary appearance.

The knights, who had been practically petrified at Gupta's temporary conversion, finally snapped out of their daze when Gupta dropped the weapon. They immediately surrounded mother and son, although more than one eyed them with an air of caution.

"Tie these two up." the apparent leader of the soldiers ordered.

Crevan turned away. There was nothing he could do now, and probably couldn't have done to begin with. A prick of guilt settled uneasily on his mind, but he shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. The only thing to do now was to make sure he didn't allow himself to be captured.

He traversed the tavern quietly, his footsteps light but quick. He dashed to the back room doorway, through the small room, and to the open door leading to the woods behind the tavern. He heard one last sentence from the leading knight before he deserted the place completely, one that quickened his racing strides into a full out sprint.

"Search the tavern and kill anyone inside except for Zwingli. If you see him, detain him immediately."

**Originally this chapter was going to be quite different, but I do think it came out better than what my other idea would have been. I decided to give Gupta/Egypt and his mother/Ancient Egypt a little appearance. I did take some liberty with their personalities since not much is known about them, so I hope I didn't butcher their personalities too badly. Also, I am aware that Egypt's eye color is now green, but I prefer the golden brown color that it originally was. It's so much more intense. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and please review! **


	11. Chapter 11

_The wooden tip of a practice sword grazed the air a mere hair's breadth away from Vash's chest. _

_ Adrenaline coursing through his ten-year-old body, Vash instinctively jerked back to create distance between himself and the makeshift weapon. He paused once he had stepped back, panting slightly and readjusting his grip on his own practice sword. He needed just a few seconds to reassess the situation, to decide the best course of action—_

_ His opponent wasn't willing to grant him that respite. _

_The sound of running footsteps and a swiftly approaching blur were the only warnings to alert him of the attack to come. His reflexes acted for him, his mind unable to register quickly enough as his hands raised his weapon to block the other's. _

_Vash's defense appeared to be successful, despite his rather awkward grip at the moment. Before he could correct his hold, his adversary's blade suddenly pushed against his own, and he was forced to reciprocate that strength in order not to be moved back. _

_ He gritted his teeth as he felt his wrist threatening to buckle, unable to handle the pressure in such an uncomfortable grip. However, he knew that if he released his hold even the slightest bit, then he would definitely lose this battle. So he continued to endure, trying to ignore the growing ache in his wrist._

_ His opponent suddenly pulled away, and all of the opposing force instantly vanished. Taken off guard by the sudden absence, he stumbled forward, trying to regain his balance. _

_ Hearing movement from behind him, Vash clumsily whirled around, heedlessly swiping his sword horizontally in an attempt to force his adversary to move away and allow him time to prepare a counterattack. His opponent, although not expecting the retaliation, swiftly ducked under the weapon and pointed their own dull blade upward. _

_ Vash's gaze searched the area ahead of him, his arms still outstretched from swinging the sword. Confusion came a split second before realization and his eyes snapped downward just in time to see the other's weapon lunge upward and into the gap between his extended arms._

_ He immediately froze as the tip of the practice sword came to a stop directly underneath his chin and dangerously close to his throat._

_ "I win again, Vash."_

_ Vash's eyes narrowed as he looked down upon his sparring partner, quickly shrugging off the initial shock of the battle's ending in order to keep his composure. The winner of the match retracted the sword away from his neck and straightened with a cocky grin._

_ "You took me by surprise, Eli." he defended a little crossly. Sure, he knew that he had lost fair and square, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. The fact that he had been defeated by a girl didn't exactly help his pride, either._

_ "I only took you by surprise because you weren't paying attention." she pointed out, the smirk never leaving her face. "If you keep going on like this, you might as well join Roddy in that pretty flower patch over there."_

_ "Excuse me!" a rather offended voice called out to them. They turned to look at Roderich, who was sitting on a clean blanket spread out on the grass a few feet away from the scuffed dirt of the sparring area. He had looked up from the papers in his lap and crossed his arms with a huff._

_ "What?" Elizaveta questioned, not put off in the least by his less-than-pleased expression. If anything, she seemed amused by it. "You _are _sitting next to those flowers." she pointed out, gesturing with her free hand at the area around Roderich. Indeed, a good amount of delicate and bright flowers surrounded Roderich's blanket._

_ "That does not mean you have to use it as a negative connotation." he grumbled._

_ Elizaveta turned to Vash. "Any idea what con-o-ta-shun means?" she asked, sounding out the syllables in an attempt to repeat the word. Vash only shrugged; he had no idea what it meant either._

_ Unimpressed and already bored with what she considered to be an unnecessarily big word, she quickly dropped the topic and started walking over to Roderich. Vash followed her, placing his practice sword against a nearby wall; Elizaveta simply dropped her's on the ground and left it there. _

_ Elizaveta stopped in front of Roderich and leaned over, trying to get a peek at the papers he was holding. Her forehead scrunched up in thought, trying to decipher the strange markings and scribbles. "These are like those musical things, right?"_

_ "They are music notes, yes." he responded, carefully straightening the papers before looking up at her. "And—"_

_ "Vash, Eli!" A deep voice called out from behind them. The children turned to face their mentor in combat, Reiner, who was leading a young filly toward them. The moment the young gray horse spotted Vash, she let out an excited whinny and strained against the rope attached to her halter. Reiner paused for a moment in an attempt to calm her down, and although she stopped trying to run away from him, she was still practically bouncing on her hooves. Sighing in defeat, he crossed the short distance over to them. _

_ The second she was close enough to get to Vash, the filly playfully nudged Vash's shoulder, causing him to almost stumble back. Vash let out a small laugh and patted her side._

_ "I thought I told you to wait until I was done with Cinder before you sparred." Reiner chastised despite the amused smile on his face. _

_ "Eli didn't want to wait." Vash explained._

_ Elizaveta defensively crossed her arms as she looked up at Reiner. "You were taking too long, and I didn't want to wait any longer. Besides, you can't tell us when to block or attack during a real battle."_

_ "Good point." He conceded with a light chuckle. "But it would be best if you at least let me supervise you. I wouldn't want any accidental injuries while I'm not there to help." He then turned his attention to Roderich. "By the way, Roderich. I believe it's time for your piano lesson."_

_ Roderich nodded in acknowledgement and once again shifted the papers to make them appear as neatly as possible._

_ "What about us?" Elizaveta asked._

_ "Since you two have already had your practice today, you might as well go inside and get cleaned up. I still have to go put Cinder in her stable." At the slightest readjustment of Reiner's hand on the rope connected to Cinder's halter, the young horse immediately let out a high whinny and stepped forward, bumping her nose against Vash's shoulder. Startled by the unexpected push, Vash stumbled a few steps back to regain his bearings. _

_ "Sorry about that." Reiner apologized. "I should have held her tighter."_

_ "It's fine." Vash assured, petting her nose. "That's just how she says hello to me."_

_ "It's a bad habit for a horse, though." he pointed out, and then gently tugged on the rope. Cinder hesitated as Vash pulled his hand away, and then reluctantly turned in the direction Reiner had indicated. "Well, it's time for me to be off, and for you all to get cleaned up. I'll see you boys for lessons tomorrow!" He turned and walked off, Cinder impatiently trying to jerk ahead every so often._

_ Once he was well out of earshot, Elizaveta burst out laughing. The other two children followed suit, although with a bit more restraint than her boisterous laugh. It took several moments before they could stop long enough to speak, although amusement still rang in their voices._

_ "I can't believe it! He still doesn't know!" she exclaimed. _

_ "You may not act very lady-like, but still, you would think he would have figured it out by now." Roderich agreed. Elizaveta nodded, not taking any offense to the comment whatsoever. If anything, it was a compliment._

_ "Yeah, I mean, come on! Mother even made me cook with her yesterday."_

_ "How long do you think it will take him to realize that you're a girl?" Vash questioned._

_ She shrugged. "Who knows. We'll just have to wait and see." Her stomach then growled, prompting her attention to turn to a more important matter. "Alright, let's go inside! I don't know about you two, but I'm hungry enough to eat a whole pig!" With that, she started walking to the house with Roderich and Vash following._

_ Just as they stepped into the house, Meryl walked into the room. _

_ "Oh, I was just about to go get you three." she said, going over to them. She gave each of them a once over, quickly judging their appearance. "Alright, Roderich, you look fine. Go on ahead to the piano room for your lesson. " she instructed. Roderich nodded politely and left._

_ "Now let's get you both washed up. I'll be back in just a minute." she said, leaving the room. _

_ Elizaveta crossed her arms with a huff. "Roderich didn't have to clean up." She grumbled._

_ "But we were the ones sparring." He reminded her. _

_ "So?" she huffed, "We're too old for this. We can clean ourselves up."_

_ "What was that?" Meryl asked, returning with a cloth and a bucket of water in hand._

_ "Nothing." Elizaveta curtly replied. _

_ Meryl smiled. "Alright then, come here."_

_ Elizaveta reluctantly stepped over to her. Meryl soaked the rag, squeezed out the excess water, and began to scrub the girl's arms and face. Elizaveta made it clear that she did not approve of the treatment through unintelligible grumblings, but otherwise didn't resist. _

_ Once Meryl finished with her daughter, she did the same to Vash. He endured more quietly than Elizaveta, but it was obvious that he did not care for it either. _

_ Once they were finally done, Meryl straightened and handed them each a small apple. "It'll be a little while before dinner's ready." She explained. "I'm going to go help in the kitchen. You two be good, alright? And make sure to be quiet during Roderich's lesson."_

_ They both nodded and watched her go, taking bites out of their fruit. Soon, the sound of a piano being played drifted into the room, soft and calming._

_ "Sounds like his lesson's starting." Vash remarked._

_ "Yeah." Elizaveta agreed, sitting down against the wall. He sat down next to her, continuing to snack on his apple. After a minute, he looked over to her, wondering why she was actually being silent instead of talking to pass the time like they normally did. _

_ She seemed to have fallen asleep; her breathing was deep and even and her eyes were closed. Simply looking at her was making Vash feel tired as well. The tug of weariness coming from his limbs and the lulling piano notes worked together to gently urge him to sleep. He let out a small yawn and readily gave in, closing his eyes off to the world and welcoming the darkness._

* * *

For one indescribable moment, Vash was caught in between the reminiscence of his dream and the suddenness of the present, unable to discern between the two. His groggy mind struggled to comprehend where—or rather _when_—he was as his now open eyes stared up at the familiar ceiling. His gaze automatically began to trace the contours of the wood above him, trying to focus on something that would help bring some clarity to his confused consciousness.

A dull throbbing suddenly made itself rudely known in his abdomen, harshly piercing through his clouded mind and yanking him back to awareness. He blinked once, twice, and then sighed. He recognized that pain all too well, even if it was not nearly as intense as it had been.

Vash sat up in the bed, careful not to aggravate his injury. Although it had been nearly a week since he had acquired it, there was still much risk in moving around too much or in the wrong way. He glanced around the room for a moment, just to ascertain his surroundings. Yes, he definitely knew where he was now. So why did he still feel a strange sense of melancholy stubbornly clinging to the edge of his being?

Irritation setting in, he looked toward the doorway. Normally he could easily just push the past away and lock it up in the recesses of his mind with little more than a flicker of thought, but now he couldn't even shake its hold using all of his concentration. There had to be something giving it strength, something weaving its influence into his mind with invisible threads.

Vash closed his eyes and exhaled, allowing his other senses to heighten in order to help him focus.

The blankets and mattress felt soft, much more pleasant than the threadbare and often itchy ones he had become used to at various inns over the years. The faint smell of spices wafted in from underneath the door, indicating that something was being cooked down in the kitchen.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary…except…

His eyes flew open in realization. That was it.

The gentle notes of an elegant piano sang through the air, somewhat muffled by the door. How did he not realize it sooner? Maybe he had grown so accustomed to the sound in his dream that he had not even noticed it was there when he woke.

A choking, overwhelming wave of something akin to nostalgia suddenly flared within him, constricting his chest until simply breathing was nearly impossible.

Now that he did realize its presence, he desperately needed _away_ from it.

Disregarding caution, Vash quickly rose out of bed, grabbed a shirt lying on one of the tables, and slipped it over his head. His wound protested the rough actions, but it was nothing more than a light jab; something he could easily ignore.

That music was what he couldn't ignore. It was what forced him to open the door, walk out of his room, and out of the house without a second thought.

**I sincerely apologize for the ridiculously long wait. ^^; Between school and laziness, I just never got around to writing more until now. I'm going to attempt to make more regular updates from now on, and I promise that I will never take as long as it took for this one to be up. Thanks to all the people still following this story after all that time!**

**By the way, I didn't even realize until after I was done with the chapter that Reiner's name could be seen as a pun. You know, Reiner, as if I took it from the word reins? That was honestly completely unintentional, and I don't know how I didn't notice that sooner. Oh well, that's his name, and it's not like he'll show up very much if at all more in the story. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

"Roderich!"

The musician winced, his fingers jerking from the piano keys and abruptly ending the melody coming from the beautiful instrument. Before he could recover, the door slammed open behind him.

"Roderich." The same frustrated voice repeated, now within the same room. Its owner, too impatient to wait for him to turn around, stepped over to the side of the large instrument to be in his view.

Roderich swallowed, knowing that he was treading on dangerous ground. He answered with a calm, "Yes, dear?"

"Don't 'dear' me, Roderich." Elizaveta sternly responded, her arms crossed and eyes burying daggers into the musician's own. "You're not getting out of it."

"Getting out of what?" he questioned. His voice remained composed, but his hands clasped together in nervousness.

She rolled her eyes, clearly not buying his playing dumb act. "You know what I'm talking about."

He bit back a sigh. He had hoped to put it off until he could avoid it altogether, but obviously she was not going to allow that. "You said you would give me some time."

"And I did." She pointed out. "He has been here for a week. A whole week, and you haven't so much as looked at him."

"I have my reasons." He mumbled.

"I don't care what your reasons are. This has gone on for long enough."

"Vash does not wish to see me either." He countered. "He hasn't even left the room once, and I'm sure it's not because of his current condition."

"He is injured." She defended. "He's not supposed to be moving around! If anything, you should take advantage of that. While he's like this he can't run away from you when you try to talk to him."

Roderich looked away from her incriminating gaze for a moment, knowing that what she said was true. His mind fumbled for words to counter, but all arguments and retorts seem to dive out of his reach whenever he grasped for them.

Elizaveta's expression softened, her posture slumping slightly. "Please, Roderich. Don't you remember how we used to be?" she asked, but did not give him time to answer. "Even if you're not on the best of terms now, it's not like he will completely ignore you.

"You don't even have to make up." She continued. "Just talk to him. That's it."

The aristocrat hesitated, his gaze traveling down to the piano. The ivory keys gleamed despite the many years of use, each one fondly and meticulously cleaned daily. It looked exactly the same as back then, when they were still happy children content to play their days away.

"Alright, I will." He conceded, looking back up at her. "But I can't guarantee what will happen."

Her face brightened with relief. "Thank you. I'll be taking Lili out to town in a few minutes, so you don't have to worry about us watching you."

"Just remember," her smile suddenly transformed into one of mischievous promise, sending a cold dread down Roderich's spine. In her fingers she nonchalantly twirled a frying pan—did she have that with her the whole time? "If I come back and you still haven't spoken to him, I will personally knock some sense into both of you. Goodbye now!" With that farewell, she left.

Roderich simply sat there for a few moments, bewildered by how suddenly her tone changed from a dark threat to a bright goodbye.

He had no doubt that her threat was real, either.

The far off sound of the front door opening and closing interrupted his astonishment. With a weary sigh, he stood. As much as he despised what he was about to do, he knew very well that Elizaveta's wrath would be much worse.

He walked out of the piano room and upstairs, headed toward the guest room. However, when he got there, the door was wide open. Surprised, he glanced around the room, but there was no sign of Vash.

As he turned back around, he nearly bumped into Meryl.

"I apologize, Ms. Héderváry. I should have been paying more attention." He said, taking a step back to gain proper distance.

"You're fine, Roderich." She reassured.

He hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Do you happen to know where Vash went?"

"Finally going to see him, are you?" she replied with a hint of a grin. "You should know. He's with her, of course."

"Right. Of course he had to go to her." He said with no small amount of annoyance. He had actually already guessed that option, but had hoped that it wasn't the right one. Now that he knew for sure that it was, it only made the situation even more complicated.

"Good luck." She responded, amusement glittering in her eyes as she turned to leave.

"I am certainly going to need it." He muttered.

* * *

Vash stepped into the stables, welcomed by the pungent musk of horse and hay. He paused once inside, his gaze searching over the stables.

An excited whinny almost immediately sounded and gained his attention. He glanced over to it and, once confirming that he had found who he was looking for, sighed in relief.

He walked over to the last stable to his left where an eager horse waited, tossing her head impatiently. She looked ready to try and jump over the gate if he didn't reach her in the next five seconds by the way she shifted her hooves. Amused, he reached out to her. As if unable to wait any longer, she shoved her head forward and nuzzled his hand.

Vash, for the first time in a while, felt his lips move up just the slightest in a genuine, if small, smile.

"I missed you too, Cinder." He murmured, rubbing her dark gray nose. She whickered in response, reveling in his presence.

The tension left his body at her sincere affection. The way she never hid her happiness to see him and never doubted him for a moment always left him feeling warm inside. Even if everyone else was against him, he knew that he could trust her.

In the back of his mind, he admitted that it would sound like a rather odd statement if he said it out loud. Holding a horse, a being who most considered to be created for man just to quicken travel, in such a high regard would probably sound childish or just plain silly. But she was more than that. She was a friend, the one friend from this place that hadn't wanted him gone. He truly regretted having to leave her here.

That was why, despite all the places he had gone to over the years, not once had he thought of buying another horse.

Suddenly, Cinder stiffened and her gaze shot over to somewhere behind Vash. Confused by her distraction, he turned to look at what had gained her notice.

His contented mood instantly shattered into a million pieces.

There, standing just inside the building, stood Roderich.

He wasn't looking directly at them and made no move to get closer or speak. Vash remained quiet as well and looked away, sliding his hand down to Cinder's neck and resting it there as if for subconscious reassurance.

For several silent minutes, no one moved. The only sound that dared to intrude in the thick, tension laden air was Cinder's breathing, which seemed almost deafeningly loud in both Vash's and Roderich's ears. Not even the other horses currently in the stables dared to make a sound and only shifted uncomfortably.

Finally, Roderich sighed, breaking the unnerving and somewhat awkward silence. Now he understood just how much they both had changed; Vash's back was still turned to him, as if he didn't even want to look at Roderich. While he did still feel resentment and even a spark of anger curling around his mind, this was simply too much. If one of them didn't say something, he might just suffocate under the pressure.

Roderich took a step forward. "Vash, I—"

Cinder's snort of warning interrupted him. Roderich stopped in his tracks, warily watching the protective horse as she glared in his direction.

Vash gave her a small pat—was he praising her?

"Vash, would you mind stepping away from her stall for a moment?"

He waited for an answer. None came.

Looks like he would just have to make do at this distance, then.

"Well, this is off to a great start…" he muttered sarcastically under his breath, and then continued louder for Vash to hear, "As I'm sure you are aware, we have not been…on the best of terms for a while now."

Vash rolled his eyes at the understatement.

"And despite the fact that you have been residing in my house for the past week, we have not spoken to each other whatsoever. Elizaveta has brought it to my attention that it will benefit us both if we could at the very least be civil enough to talk."

"We? Don't you mean _you_?" Vash countered, finally turning to face him. "Who was the one that refused to let me explain myself? Accused me without even hearing what I had to say?!"

Roderich hesitated, taken aback by the sudden spite filled words. "I may not have been in the most clear of mind at the time..."

"Really? Sounded loud and clear to me."

"Excuse me for pointing out the obvious!" Roderich argued, anger flared up by the other's words. "My father was dying and his only hope was a doctor! What kind of coincidence is it that you, a mercenary who kills just for the sake of money, had left moments before without telling anyone and took the only horse with you?!"

"I hadn't murdered anyone!"

"But you have since then."

Vash's jaw clenched. "That doesn't matter!"

"Yes it does! You don't even have a heart to speak of!"

"And you do? You threw me out of your house without even asking why I had left and told me to never come back! I'm surprised that you haven't thrown me out again yet."

"As much as I hate you I couldn't let you die…Elizaveta would never forgive me if I did." Roderich hastily added. The last sentence held much less bitterness than his previous words, only a halfhearted excuse made to protect his pride from attack.

Mentioning Elizaveta curbed Roderich's blazing temper like a wet rag placed over a rising flame. He still felt the smolders of hatred brewing in his mind, but the rage had begun to calm as he remembered the purpose for the confrontation.

Elizaeta had sent him out here to talk with him, not argue. The argument wouldn't get them anywhere they needed to be anyway, although, maybe the words that had gone unspoken for years suddenly being spilled out like this could be a good thing. The weight on his chest felt a little lighter somehow; maybe it was the same for Vash. Either way, he needed to steer the conversation into less treacherous territory before one of them started yelling again.

He inhaled and then exhaled deeply to ensure that he had regained full control over his words before speaking.

"The reason I came out here to speak to you, as I said before, was because of Elizaveta. Even though this…conversation left much to be desired, we did speak. Now we won't have to risk having our heads smashed in when we come back, which I'm sure neither of us wish to face." Roderich said.

Vash gave a slight nod. They both knew very well what that woman was capable of.

Roderich, satisfied and ready to leave, started to turn but stopped when Vash spoke.

"I won't say anything about it when we're around everyone else. As long as you don't either." he stated.

"Agreed." Roderich curtly responded. And with that last word, he left the stables.

Vash sighed but then gritted his teeth as a sudden painful throbbing around his injury made itself known. Cinder neighed and nudged him with her nose, not enough to actually move him, but enough to get her concern across.

"I'm alright." Vash reassured the horse and patted her nose. "I've just been on my feet for too long, that's all." His anger at Roderich had made him forget about how much time must have passed and had overshadowed the growing tension in his wound that came from overexertion. He hadn't moved around or stood for this long ever since he got the injury; it was no wonder he was feeling the effect now.

He gave her one last pat before turning away and leaving. As much as he wanted to stay with her after being apart all those years, he knew better than to exhaust himself.

The quicker he healed, the sooner he could leave.

* * *

**Unsatisfactory end to the argument, I know, but I have my reasons. I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

"I swear, those two are so stubborn that they would rather get run over by a stampede than admit they're wrong." Elizaveta muttered, just loudly enough for Lili to hear. She looked over a few fruits that were laid out on one of the merchants' tables, but after a moment she turned and continued walking through the market. Lili picked up her pace in order to follow; she had quickly noticed upon leaving the house that when Elizaveta was angered or exasperated she tended to walk faster than intended.

"Without me to give them a push they wouldn't get anywhere soon." She continued, and then paused to glance over a few items being sold at a spices stall.

"Miss Elizaveta…" Lili began tentatively.

"You don't have to be so formal. Just call me Elizaveta." She insisted, turning to face her with a small smile.

Lili nodded. "Elizaveta…can I ask…" she stopped uncertainly.

"Ask whatever you want. I don't mind." The older woman encouraged.

"What happened…between Roderich and big brother?"

Elizaveta hesitated, as if taken off guard by the question. A mixture of sadness and weariness flickered in her eyes as she heaved a sigh. "I should have guessed that you would want to know about that…" she mumbled.

Lili immediately shifted her gaze to the ground and nervously ran her fingers over the end of one of her braids. "Never mind, you don't have to."

"No, it's fine." She reassured. "I'll tell you, but…don't let Vash know I did, alright? He probably doesn't want anyone else to know."

"Okay."

Elizaveta led her over to a small table under an overhang and sat down. She didn't say anything for a moment, only inhaling and exhaling deeply as if preparing herself.

"Alright…I guess it wouldn't hurt to give you a little backstory beforehand. You see, when we were younger, Vash, Roderich, and I were the best of friends. Even though I was only a daughter of one of the maids and Vash was considered a commoner in status, Roderich's father still allowed us to be around. I think he was hoping that being around us would help Roderich become a bit more…well, manly, for lack of a better word.

"Anyway, his father was a good man. Once he realized that Roderich wasn't cut out for sword training, he decided to let Vash and I learn instead. He would even let Vash stay the night in the spare room whenever he wanted to, which was often. We had some of the best times together."

Elizaveta stopped, her wistful tone having begun to whither into a much more melancholy one near the end of her sentence. Lili simply waited for her to continue, curiosity keeping her attentive.

"But then," she started, "we found out about what Vash was doing. Now that I think back on it, it was actually pretty obvious; how else was Vash's father getting enough money to keep their land? He wasn't bringing any money in. Vash was. Vash had become a mercenary.

"As I'm sure you know, mercenaries don't have a good reputation. Roderich absolutely hated the idea, and when we found out that Vash was one, I think we were both too shocked to think straight. Vash left, but after a few days, he came back again. Roderich didn't say anything about it, and he never mentioned it again, but there was a separation between us that wasn't there before. A month passed like that, with us hardly speaking to each other and Vash stopped spending the night.

"Then came the day when it happened. It was just after dark when my mother went to go check on Roderich's father. We heard her scream and ran upstairs to see what was wrong. Roderich's father had collapsed on his bed, breathing heavily and in great pain. We figured out that he must have been poisoned and that he needed a doctor right away. But when we got down to the stables, we discovered that the only horse we had at the time—Roderich's mother had taken the others to go to a nearby city—was gone. Since I was the fastest one there, I ran as fast as I could into town and got a doctor. But by the time I found him and brought him back, it was already too late." Elizaveta paused for a moment and looked away, a solemn expression on her features.

"A few hours after he…passed, Roderich suddenly got up and went outside. I was worried about him and followed. But before I could say anything we heard the sound of hooves. We looked up to see Vash coming toward us riding the last horse that was supposed to be in the stables. I was so surprised that I wasn't sure what to say; but Roderich didn't hesitate. He immediately started to accuse Vash of poisoning his father. Vash denied it all and they got into an argument. I think Roderich was so consumed with grief and rage that his forcefulness took Vash by surprise. I know it did me. Roderich ordered him to leave and to never come back, and so Vash left without another word. I pleaded with Roderich to reconsider and think things through, but he wouldn't have any of it. I decided to wait two weeks in the hopes that it would give him time to calm down before I brought up the subject again. When I talked about it I could tell that he felt guilty and sad, but he still refused to forgive him. I think he was more afraid of it turning out to be true, and still is."

Lili stayed quiet and mulled over Elizaveta's story for a minute or two, processing all of the new information. Elizaveta rested her head in one of her hands as if she felt drained after revealing so much.

"Can I ask one more question?" Lili said, fiddling with one of her braids out of nervous habit.

"Might as well." Elizaveta responded.

"What happened to Roderich's mother?"

"She died a year ago. After her husband's death she never was the same, and it was obvious to everyone in the household that she was struggling. It was only a matter of time."

"Oh…" Lili guiltily replied, hoping that she hadn't upset Elizaveta.

A short silence followed with Lili avoiding eye contact and Elizaveta simply waiting to see if she was going to say anything else. When she didn't, Elizaveta let out a large sigh and then stood.

"Well, we're not getting anything done sitting here. Come on, let's go see if they have any better deals further down the street." She offered Lili another smile in an attempt to reassure her. Lili nodded and stood as well, although she moved a little more cautiously than before.

"Don't worry about me." Elizaveta said as they started walking. "I'm alright. However…Lili, do you mind if I give you some advice?"

"Um, no." she responded, a little taken off guard by the sudden change in subject.

"Be more assertive! If you act all shy all the time people are just going to walk all over you. It's nice and all that you consider other's feelings, but you have the right to have an opinion too. Like—"

A light tap on her shoulder cut her off midsentence. She turned around to face the alleyway they had been passing, leaving Lili to curiously peek around her to see what was wrong. At first, it looked like every other shadowed alley; but then she noticed that part of that darkness was actually moving. She looked closer and could just barely discern a cloaked figure's outline.

"Crevan?" Elizaveta questioned.

Crevan gave a small dip of his head in answer, not bothering to waste time on pleasantries. " We need to get back to the house. Now."

**I hope you enjoyed and please review!**


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